Our Song is Fire
by memoryoflightwaves
Summary: Part of a once proud northern family with close ties to the Starks, Myrna Beaumont fights for her freedom as she runs away from her past by traveling Westeros. Her story with Sandor Clegane starts as she is being held prisoner in Kings Landing. Are these two fated, or too flawed for love? (Sandor x OFC, & some SanSan)
1. Chapter 1

"You're a Stark. You're my friend. My only friend," the lady murmured.

Friend was a strange word to describe the pair of them. They could barely pass a word to one another without enemy ears to hear what they speak. Sansa Stark was born in the North and both of them had blood of the First Men running through their veins. There was even talk that she would be wed to Robb Stark when she was young, the eldest Stark boy, but that was a long time ago when everything was right in her life. They had a special connection with each other that they did not have with anyone else at the capital. If not a friend, perhaps an ally would be the best way to describe them.

Blinking rapidly, her watery green eyes scanned everywhere to see if they were truly alone. "I do not know anymore," her delicate voice trembled and abruptly stopped when they heard footsteps echoing from around the corner. "We'll have to talk later," Sansa and the lady held a forlorn gaze for a few seconds before nodding and going their separate ways.

_Everyone here hates me_, Sansa's tearful words rang in her head as she slowly made her way back to her bedchamber. The lady didn't realize her hands were clenched into tight fists. Relaxing herself, she looked down at her hands and watched them turn from red to white. She was lonely, even after briefly chatting with Sansa. Their encounters were not enough and everyone else she had contact with were against her. Sansa was not strong in her eyes, though. When she had first arrived to the capital she had fought, and received many consequences from her actions. Now she was trained and knew how to behave the way they wanted her to behave. She might as well be a dog.

An exasperated sigh escaped her mouth and she didn't realize there was someone posted at her door. The lady held her hand up to her chest and contemplated. The Hound stood there covering the whole door, tall as he was. He would have had to duck if he were ever to enter her bedchamber. However, he stood directly in front of the door rather than on the side. She would need to speak with him.

Dragging her feet as she made her way to her bedchamber she thought of what he could possibly be doing. Was she to be summoned to someone? King Joffrey? The thought crept up on her like a bad dream. The Hound himself, though, was not something she feared. He had never harmed her, nor Sansa. They had spoken about him once before and both agreed he was not like the others. The Hound treated them with respect as much as he could. King Joffrey held authority over him, though, and the lady was not stupid. She knew The Hound had done numerous awful actions but most were commands given by Joffrey.

When she was close enough for him to notice, she took in a breath and put her hands behind her back and straightened herself even though it pained her back. She always cursed her back, especially in these corsets. "Do you have business with me?" her chin was slightly lifted so she could meet with his eyes.

Keeping your gaze on The Hound was no easy task. Half his face was a ruin, covered in old burns that left his face tight and uncomfortable. Respect was always an important factor to the lady, so she always gave it when there was room for it. She would never turn away when he strolled by. Once she had even tried to strike a conversation with him, as she felt she could have had some sort of affinity with him but knew she could never say why to anyone, even him. The Hound wore his wounds on his face, but the lady wore hers elsewhere and could keep it hidden from the world. That was the way she preferred it.

The Hound seemed withdrawn, but he still had a slight grimace upon his face. His heavy armor clanked when he finally moved away from her door and to her side. The Hound stopped. "Come with me," he ordered and continued on his way down where she came from.

Without having a say in anything, as usual, she reluctantly turned back around and followed him with her feet needing to pace quicker than normal. There was an unusual heaviness in the air as if something bad were about to happen. When they continued down the corridor which turned into a stairway for the gardens the lady was slightly confused, standing at the top of the steps. Who would wait for her there? She hugged herself with one arm, grabbing onto her opposite arm tightly. A warm breeze ran past her, making her black curls that were left down fly behind her. Scents of flowers came with the breeze and that gave her some comfort along with the orange glow in the horizon beyond the flowery venue. When The Hound made it to the bottom of the steps and noticed she had stopped following he stopped and peeked over his shoulder, the bad side of his face facing her. He followed her with his eyes when she made her way down next to him and she apologized.

"It's not wise to make the Queen wait," he muttered as he continued leading her, now outdoors in the colorful garden.

Her feet sank into the dirt as she followed him now with the knowledge of who was summoning her, but she still did not understand why. _The Queen? What does she want with me?_ Queen Regent Cersei was someone she was always wary around. A smile so mocking it made you want to throw something at her, but you would probably end up losing your hands if you did that. Or more. The lady put her hands next to her and tried to look presentable as she expected to see her any moment. She tried to focus on the blazing sunset. Nature's beauty usually calmed her but that was taken from her when she heard her name being called.

"Myrna, there you are. We have been waiting," Queen Regent Cersei stood with two guards on either side of her.

The Hound found himself a place not too far from them, and kept his head down. Myrna ran what the Queen said through her head when she stopped in front of her. _We?_ For some reason she felt that "we" did not include her guards. Who else was to be there?

Myrna gasped gently, almost forgetting her manners. She curtseyed, letting her head bow low. "My queen," she pleasantly stated. "I apologize for not being here sooner. I did not know..."

"Oh, I know. This was a last minute arrangement. There is someone here to meet you. He traveled oh so very far," she smiled but failed to put any real positivity into it.

That perplexed Myrna. There was no one else she knew besides Sansa, and even Sansa was just a small child at Winterfell the last time she saw her. So much had happened since then, and she had lost... everyone. Even knowing that, there was hope attached to the news. Will this person be rescuing her from this hell? Is it a suitor who had taken interest in her, and had convinced the Lannisters to give them to her? Myrna held her hands in front of her, slightly looking around for this supposed other person when the Queen ordered one of her guards to fetch him.

Her wonderful thoughts nearly made her overlook how The Hound was reacting. His head was still down, eyes glued to his feet. He was never a talker, but he still was the type to look people in the eye even when he did not speak. Myrna frowned, wondering why he seemed so put off.

"Myrna, my sweet. Have you ever heard of Gregor Clegane?" Cersei asked.

The name made The Hound twitch, Myrna noticed. Did he not like Gregor Clegane? She pulled her eyes away from him and looked at the Queen Regent. Her green eyes pierced through her, but her smile seemed more real now. Was she holding back a laugh?

"No... no, I am afraid not. Is this the man I am to meet?" Myrna responded.

A chuckle came from the Queen. "'Tis the man you will _marry_,".

Her eyes widened. Myrna had guessed correctly. She could not believe something this great was happening to her, and Queen Regent Cersei was actually allowing it. Myrna took in a deep breath to hide her excitement. So this Gregor Clegane had actually convinced the Lannisters to give her away? She would have to ask him to tell her the story of how this came to be.

"I am not familiar with House Clegane. Is Gregor Clegane a lord?" Myrna asked, afraid she might be stepping out of her place but her curiosity held her.

"Well, you were brought here by a Clegane. Gregor's little brother, Sandor Clegane," she said The Hound's real name as she glanced at him, but he still stood there like a statue. "That's not very polite to not know people by their name, little dove..." she teased.

Not knowing what to say, she kept her mouth shut and blushed. After letting that sink in she realized she was to be his new sister. _Sandor Clegane_... she repeated his name in her head. _Gregor Clegane_... she repeated her betrothed's name. Was Sandor being shy because she will now be a part of his family? He did not seem the type to be shy. He wasn't quiet because he was shy. She could feel his rage. As the moment went on she saw his jaw clench tighter. Finally they heard footsteps come their way, but she heard the guard that was left with Cersei say, "The Mountain is here..."

The taste of bile filled her mouth. Myrna couldn't breathe.

"Myrna?" Cersei's voice sounded distant, but concerned.

Anything that was happening around her did not reach her senses. Old memories were triggered by the man who walked into the room. A burning sensation in her throat, eyes losing sight. He was part to blame. The man she had only known by the name, "The Mountain". To be his bride would be to relive that day, every single day. Then she lost all sight and everything went black.

...

When she woke the next morning she was cold to the bone. Her teeth chattered and she clutched to her furs, knowing her handmaiden would soon be there to make sure she was up and dressed. Her body was stiff and sore as if she had been struck by something. The memory from the evening before began to fill her mind completely and soon she remembered everything. Why were the Gods so cruel? A tear ran out the corner of her eye and ran down to her ear. Myrna did not want to get up. She would refuse to see any of them. Especially Cersei, the one who is allowing her to marry such a monster. The queen was on verge of laughing, especially when discovering Myrna had no clue who she was so excited to meet until they mentioned him by the name everyone knew. _The Mountain_. Myrna squeezed her eyes shut when she heard her wooden door creak open.

"Please, I do not feel very well today..." Myrna begged, lip trembling.

The door clicked close. "I'm sorry, m'lady. It is the king who asks for you this morning," the handmaiden tried to sound as sweet as she could, but anyone knew a visit with the king would be anything but sweet.

Another tear trailed down the same path as the previous one on her face as she let out a sarcastic chuckle. "This is exactly what I needed," Myrna bit her lip to stop from weeping.

"I'm so sorry, m'lady..." the handmaiden seemed unsure of what else she could say and after standing idly for a few seconds she decided to plan Myrna's outfit. From the wardrobe she pulled out a simple violet dress with long sleeves and a deep v shape neck. After managing to calm herself down, Myrna kicked the furs off of her and sat on the edge of her bed as she waited for her handmaiden to help her.

After the dress was on her, Myrna went to stare into the mirror. She could not help but feel her back in so much more pain than usual, plus the soreness was also in her arms and side. It was as if the handmaiden could see the pain she felt. "You fell hard when you fainted, m'lady. They had to carry you back," the handmaiden told her as she stood behind Myrna.

She tried to shake off everything that was related to the day before, physically and mentally. "I suppose we should start walking towards the throne room," Myrna sighed but was interrupted by an abrupt knock on the door. The door opened. "You again..."

The Hound had to duck his head when he stepped into her bedchamber. His eyes glanced to her handmaiden and around her room briefly before locking them on her. "King Joffrey is growing impatient," he declared.

"Just like his mother..." Myrna hissed, picking up her dress with her hands slightly so she would not trip as she breezed past The Hound. It did not take long at all for him to catch up to her down the corridor, but she refused to look at him. "You've come to ruin my day again, ser?" Myrna continued to spat nonsense at him.

The Hound grumbled. "I'm no knight, unlike my _brother_," he seemed to try to get back at her. "You wouldn't be the first wife he honored," the last sentence sounded more like a jape than the first.

"So you enjoy watching your good sisters be killed by him? Are you counting the days for me to join them?" Myrna went on but this time Sandor did not respond. That made her peek at him, and as usual, he was frowning and looking straight ahead. The anger inside her couldn't be contained and her true self came out for a second. Myrna yanked on his wrist, ignoring the soreness, but all it did was make him stop walking and glare down at her. "I'm _talking_ to you!" she spat up at the tall man.

He ripped his hand away and shoved her forward. Myrna slightly winced. "Keep walking," he ordered.

Defeated, Myrna held her tongue and walked the rest of the way to the throne room with her head down. The giant, ancient doors to the throne room slowly opened and they sounded like an old man's groan. Once there was enough room for both The Hound and herself to enter they walked in and presented themselves to the boy on the throne. King Joffrey observed her deviously the entire time.

"It's about time you've come. I was growing bored of Sansa," he barked.

Myrna hid her disgust. _So Sansa had suffered the same this morning._ "It's a pleasure to be here," she kept it short and sweet. Myrna learned that was the best way to speak with King Joffrey.

"Is it?" he quickly responded, adjusting in his seat. "This was supposed to be strictly business, but that's no fun at all. Would you want to have some fun with me, Myrna?" he smiled.

Ser Meryn walked away from his spot from under the throne. Myrna had grown used to him as he was the one who enjoyed what he did the most and was the one who would step up. Quivering, she closed her eyes and waited for it to begin. Would she be struck to the ground this time? Would he rip and ruin another dress, leaving her having to walk back to her bedchamber with her chest exposed? Myrna waited but nothing happened. Confused, she opened one eye but all she could see was Sandor's wide back.

"What are you doing, dog? Step aside," King Joffrey ordered.

He did not speak right away, and he turned his head slightly as if to try and look at Myrna but she could not see what was going on. Then he found the words he wanted to say. "Gregor would not be happy if his new toy were to be used before him..." he directed his sentence mostly at Ser Meryn who turned white at the realization and took a step back.

King Joffrey was clearly upset as Myrna did not hear him rebuke as he usually did. The silence in that massive, spacious room was very uncomfortable. Then she heard some footsteps. "With me, all of you!" she heard Joffrey bark a command. Soon he came back into view, walking down the steps and off to the side of the room towards a door. When he could make eye contact with her he stopped and his Kingsguard stopped after him. "You cannot marry your husband yet. I need him for the war. My uncle will be on our shores soon, and only after I put my uncles head on a spike _then _you can become The Mountain's bitch," Joffrey taunted her. He smiled at her before leaving through the throne room doors and it left her shuddering.

Before leaving her, The Hound stared at her. Myrna looked back with red cheeks, slightly flustered. "Why? He could have..."

"Do not thank me, woman. You still belong to my brother," he rasped, and she watched him walk rapidly out of the room to follow King Joffrey. Yellow morning sunlight poured in through the hazy glass windows and she stood there in silence, all alone. Myrna felt so small in there. Why did he stand between her and the king? He could have easily lost his head for disobeying someone as mad as Joffrey. She put her head down and sighed. Not only did she feel guilty for yelling at him earlier, but she also knew there was nothing no one in the world could do to save her. Not even The Hound.

"My sad song only seems to be beginning," her voice being the only remaining sound in the empty space around her.


	2. Chapter 2

Bells rang throughout Kings Landing signaling doom was coming for them. All worthy women and children inside the Red Keep were to meet with the Queen and take refuge in the Queen's Ballroom; she did not want to think what would happen to the rest. The sun had set already and all Myrna could see was dark silhouettes of men rushing in and out the doors that led out to the Blackwater as she made her way to the ballroom. Her handmaiden was persistent in rushing towards the ballroom, but Myrna felt like running outside with the men rather than being trapped inside with scared women and children. She believed that she would have been more useful out there, but no one would believe her. In the back of her mind she could not help but think how she could be free again if the city were to fall but that would mean the cost of these men's lives.

After following a small crowd of other women they found the Queen's Ballroom and met with the guards posted outside the doors. Small talk and the crying of babes filled their ears when the doors creaked opened and they rushed in like a stream. Most of the women peeked at them for a second to see who they were. Many had arrived earlier than they had, and Myrna smiled when she saw a familiar face. Sansa sat with a circle of women and Myrna went to greet her. The redhaired beauty wore a rose colored dress with a magnificently crafted metal band around the waist. Her hair was pulled back with two thick braids on either side of her head, the rest of her hair was down and curled. They hugged tight when Sansa caught sight of her.

"Oh, Myrna. You seem well..." she softly said when she pulled away and took a shy step back.

Smiling, she nodded. "As do you. But you have become good at hiding how you really feel," Myrna noticed as Sansa held a content expression. She seemed to not want to reply to that. "That's a good thing," she added with a whisper and a brighter smile.

"I suppose. Joffrey made me kiss his sword before he went off," she rolled her eyes.

Myrna shrugged. "Better than _him_," she suggested. Both giggled.

An awkward silence came between them after their laugh but Sansa seemed to have had something on her mind. "Is it true?" Sansa asked a question as her eyes darted to the floor and she played with the ends of her auburn hair.

"Hm?" Myrna raised an eyebrow.

Her green eyes glued onto Myrna's dark eyes and her mouth gawked a bit before continuing. Whatever she did, though, made her incredibly beautiful. "The Hound stood between you and Joffrey..." she trailed off.

Before Myrna could even open her mouth to respond someone called to them.

"Sansa! Myrna! Why has no one told me my Northern beauties have arrived? Come! Come!" Queen Regent Cersei called rather crudely from a corner she had sat down. A mountain of beige and red silk pillows were placed around the Queen Regent which matched the Queen's blood red dress, and a low wooden table that held refreshments were near her. A handmaid stood nearby waiting to pour wine when needed. Immediately they obeyed, knowing making the Queen wait would only make their experience worse. When Myrna reached closer to Cersei she could immediately tell Cersei was drunk from the smell and the expression on the Queen's face. There was a smile plain on her face but it was crooked, and her eyes glared at them. "Sit with me. Talk with me," she commanded and they found places comfortable enough for their bottoms with the help of the pillows.

"It was very kind of you to invite us here, Your Grace," Sansa began. Myrna agreed with her.

Cersei let out a chuckle as she threw her shoulders back. "It was my duty, my little doves. You think I wanted this?" she waved her hand around. Myrna could feel most of the attention on her. There was a discussion Cersei wanted to have with her, and Myrna dreaded that. "Counting down the days for your wedding?" Cersei asked with a sly smile.

Myrna did not reply, but quietly held eye contact with the queen. Sansa fidgeted, obviously at unease with the tension in the air.

"Let us help you, sweetling. I'm sure Sansa and I can give you advice," she glanced at Sansa and then back at her.

_Calm yourself_, Myrna reminded her that there was no way to win an argument with a queen, especially one like Cersei. "If you want to help me, you can call off this wedding," she said as soothing as she could manage.

The wicked smile on Cersei's face melted into a frown. "Remind me, little dove, how old are you?"

"Twenty-one," Myrna immediately replied in a monotone voice.

"Twenty-one," Cersei repeated just as quick. "When I was twenty-one I was wed and ready to birth my second child already. To a man who knew nothing else but to eat, hunt and fuck whores. You think this is what I wanted?" her face was beginning to flush but she looked away in disgust and picked up her goblet. The handmaiden standing by rushed to fill the cup with wine.

The Northern girls exchanged glances. They were going to have to be extra careful. "I apologize, Your Grace," Myrna said solemnly.

"No, no, 'tis alright. You're still blessed with youth. A bit overdue for a noble lady, but still young," she sounded almost jealous.

After Cersei sipped more wine, she made a noise that was almost like a laugh. Myrna and Sansa stared at her confused.

"That was distasteful for me to yell at you, little dove. I guess I would not know the pain of my whole house and town being slaughtered and burned to the dirt," Cersei took another sip of wine. Myrna gripped the skirt of her dress, hands balled into fists. "How could anyone compare anything to that? Unless, you were to wed the man that did just that. Burn everything you love to the ground. That would be a very, very unpleasant situation..." she swirled her wine around in her cup as she stared at it.

Sansa could not keep quiet any longer. "Why does Myrna have to marry Ser Gregor? Everyone knows that he-"

"Because Myrna has to do her duty just like you!" Cersei spat in her direction now. "Joffrey will give you no less trouble. I apologize for that, but that is the truth. He's always been difficult..." she trailed off on a more melancholic note.

The chatter in the room died when a knight came rushing in through the doors. He directly went in front of Cersei and bowed stiffly. His steel armor was covered in blood and the smell filled the room. She leaned to the side when he approached her to whisper something in her ear. _Are we losing the battle?_ Myrna wondered, trying to decipher if it was good or bad news by the expression on Cersei's hard face. That itself was impossible to do. The women began talking again softly as they began to wonder the same thing. The knight was soon dismissed and returned from where he came from. All eyes were planted on Cersei but she did not seem to care as she took another sip from her goblet.

The three women sat there in silence for a moment. Cersei's handmaiden had poured wine for Myrna and Sansa as well and they would occasionally take a sip to avoid being yelled at from Cersei. Myrna had acquired the taste for wine more than Sansa had, but Myrna was older than the girl. Wine would help Myrna deal with the pain. Even on these pillows, Myrna's back could never feel right in a tight dress. Every morning she felt like crying before having to suffer having her corset tightened around her waist by her handmaiden. The one thing Myrna requested when she arrived here was to have only one handmaiden so she would not be burdened to have to explain her back so many times. The day she received the ruins on her back still lingered in her dreams.

"So, Myrna. Why don't you tell us what you did before coming here? What would Myrna Beaumont, a noble lady of the North, do after surviving such a tragedy?" Cersei broke the silence.

Not really sure how to answer that, she looked to Sansa. The girl had seemed curious as well as she waited eagerly for what Myrna had to say. "There was lots of traveling..." Myrna began. She groped her neck, worried about where this would go.

"I bet that was exciting. But all by yourself?" Cersei tilted her head.

"No. I had a friend with me..." Myrna placed her hands on her lap now and adjusted herself.

"Oh? Another survivor from Beaumont Hall? What was her name?"

"He was a boy. Desmond. He saved me," Myrna admitted. She hadn't said his name in over a year and it felt like bringing back to life what she wanted to leave behind.

Now it was Sansa asking a question. "Wasn't that dangerous?"

"I knew how to protect myself," she tried to make her answer short. If these women knew how she lived before they would make her a laughingstock for the rest of her time here.

Sansa smiled. "You sound like my sister Arya," she softly said but when she saw Cersei's frown she immediately looked down at her feet and her beautiful smile vanished.

"A shame Arya is missing," Cersei gave her empty condolences to Sansa.

Myrna had only been here for a year and did not know what they were talking about. She knew about Ned Stark. Everyone did in Westeros, and it was a shock for her when she heard of what happened. She remembered how her friend Desmond disappeared for a whole day, he had never been the type to get emotional in front of people. Myrna and the rest of her house and town were raised to have respect and love for their Warden of the North and she had the chance to meet him once when she was young. That was when she also met Sansa, who could have only been about three or four at the time. If Sansa had younger siblings, she never met them.

Once again, the door opened but this time it was Lancel Lannister limping into the room. His appearance made a few woman gasp. An arrow was deep in his shoulder which he held with his opposite hand gently. He must have fallen as he was covered in dirt and blood, and an ankle was sprained which left him struggling to walk.

"Your Grace. They made it to the shores. We are struggling to keep them out..." he nervously looked around the room. He nearly looked as frightened as the women.

Cersei stood up quickly. "Bring Joffrey back inside. Tell him to return to his chambers immediately!" she ordered.

"But... But Your Grace... I cannot do that. The men out there need morale-" Cersei's fist lunged at his wounded shoulder, and when he screamed the women in the room joined with him.

Cersei stepped over Lancel who was now sobbing on the ground and darted out of the room. The guards posted at the door followed her which left them completely vulnerable for any of the enemy's men who were able to break through the gates.

Myrna pulled up Sansa by her wrists. "You must go to your bedchambers, that is the safest place for you. Bar your doors."

"No, not without you. Please come with me," Sansa pleaded.

_I cannot_, Myrna thought. This was too good of an opportunity. Perhaps she could escape. Then again, Sansa would be all alone if she had managed to leave this place. It was not possible to bring Sansa, she knew that would be too difficult. Sansa was too well known. The decision had to be made.

"Just go. I will return to my own chambers," Myrna felt a wave of guilt as she lied to her only friend. She watched Sansa back away and then hurry out the door herself, her red hair bouncing behind her.

With a nervous exhale, she walked out the wide opened doors when Sansa was out of sight. She remembered Ser Meryn was the one they gave her dagger to when the Lannister men brought her to the capital. There was no way she could leave without that. Luckily for her, she had always planned of escaping and was able to find out where the Kingsguard men slept in case she ever had the chance. The White Sword Tower, they called it. The problem was, she always walked the corridors during the day. Now the visibility in the corridors was little to none since the sun was down. _Just take a chance and go_, Myrna told herself. Her heart pounded hard as her feet pounded against the stone beneath her feet, nearly blind. She stopped when she could no longer go straight and turned a corner, following the rough stone walls with a hand. Eventually that corridor turned into the top of a stairway and she nearly fell when she made that discovery. In order to get to the tower she had to find the Round Room which was on the main floor so she needed to stay on the main floor. Myrna struggled to think of where she made a wrong turn.

Far behind her from where she came screams of dying men made her freeze. Myrna crouched down to her knees with the skirt of her dress piled around her and did her best to see what was happening but panicked when clangs and footsteps came from the bottom of the stairway. Trapped, she held her breath and prayed it was dark enough for them not to notice her sitting against the wall. Men in heavy, noisy armor ran up the steps and the Gods must have heard her prayer since they only hastened when they reached the top step and ran down the corridor. They left behind the stench of piss and blood. _Perhaps they are Kingsguard men running away from the battle to gather their belongings_, she thought. _They could lead me straight to where I need to go. _Myrna waited for the right moment to start running after them. As their footsteps seemed far enough for them not to hear her own she ran in their direction, but she could probably follow on scent alone. The stench was vile. They had been around corpses for some time.

Myrna was chasing them for what felt like a very long time, and with no idea where she was headed. They took so many turns and soon she knew there was no way she could backtrace her steps if she needed to. She made herself believe it was only the darkness that made it feel like such a maze. Then Myrna realized the footsteps disappeared when a light came at the end of the final corridor. Concerned, she stopped running and put her back against the wall and walked slowly to the open and well lit area, ignoring the pains in her lower back. She hoped this was the Round Room she had been searching all this time for.

The room was much brighter than the hall she was in and she had to adjust her eyes in order to see everything. Not only were more fires burning inside the room along the walls but the walls were whitewashed stone and the room was a circle. _The Round Room! I found it!_ Myrna threw her head back in relief and sighed as she continued to examined the room. In the middle was a unique white table, shaped odd and had seven chairs lazily put back in place. Myrna figured that was where they would hold their meetings. Past the table Myrna found the staircase. _The men I followed must have gone up there_, she took a deep breath and walked hastily around the table.

Before she put her foot on the first step she noticed something odd. The large window near her had green light pouring in. Squinting and shading her eyes with a hand, she looked outside and all she saw was fire. The fire had a green hue to it, and she had never seen anything spread so fast.

"Are you a member of the Kingsguard now?" a voice rumbled behind her.

Myrna felt like she jumped out of her skin. She swirled around, back pushed up against the window. "You..." she muttered.

The Hound's face was drenched with sweat and smears of dark red blood were everywhere on him. His brown hair clung to his face and left his burn completely exposed, not that he seemed to care. He seemed different somehow, though. Like he had lost something.

"What are you doing here, girl?" his voice was the softest she had ever heard it, but still rough.

Myrna had no choice but to confess. "Ser Meryn has something of mine. I need it back before I go," she kept her shoulders back and her chin up. She had no idea why she was being so confident in front of The Hound. The man could take her down in one swing.

His one good eyebrow narrowed as he stared at her, thinking. "What could that rat have that you need?"

"My dagger. My brother gave me a dagger and they gave it to Ser Meryn when they brought me here. I need it back," she insisted.

The Hound laughed. "Are you talking about that dagger with the tree engraved on the blade?"

Her eyebrows rose. "Yes, that's the one... how do you know?"

"That cunt never shuts up about it. Here, I'll grab that precious dagger of yours. And don't you fucking run off unless you want some other man to catch you. He won't be as nice as me," he snarled as he marched up the staircase to the next floor.

_He didn't even question me about running away_, Myrna gawked up the staircase still stunned at his generosity. Soon her surprise turned into impatience. She kept pacing in circles, occasionally stopping at the window while hugging herself. The flames danced along the bay, even on the water. _How horrible_, she thought. So many men probably died right where she was looking at. Burning alive was one of the worst ways to go. Unfortunately, she had seen it first hand in her past. How many fathers and sons were lost this day? How many wives will grieve? More women would be lonely after this night, just as she was.

A scream came from the top of the stairway. Myrna paused and waited. Then she started hearing footsteps prattle down quickly. She held her breath and she released it when she saw it was The Hound and not some other man she would have to deal with on her own. When he reached the bottom he held out her dagger towards her that she had not seen for over a year, but she could barely tell it was hers. It was covered in fresh blood and she gave him a dirty look.

"It was cleaner the last time I saw it," she uttered.

The Hound growled. "There was a man in my way!" he used the dagger to point up the steps. In the other hand he held a sack but she could not tell what was inside, but it held much.

"What's that?" she pointed at the sack.

He looked down at it. "My belongings. You think I'm going to let you go on your own?" he sat the sack down for a second to grab a piece of cloth out from his pocket and clean her blade for her. After examining it for a few seconds he grabbed the blade end and handed it to her. The hilt felt right in her hand when she took it from him, the spiral wooden hilt was a common thing for a sword or dagger at Beaumont Hall.

Myrna shook her head as she pulled her attention away from her dagger. "But why? What about Joffrey?"

"Fuck Joffrey. I don't want to be here one more minute than necessary and I'm pretty damn sure you feel the same way. We need to leave now," he picked up his sack of personal items and began walking towards the hallway she came from.

"Wait," Myrna called to him. "Sansa. We can't leave Sansa here. Why don't we take her with us?"

The Hound stopped walking but didn't look back at her. "I tried. The little bird won't leave her cage," he bellowed. "No use going all the way back there. If you don't want to marry my brother I suggest you follow me," he did not wait for any response and entered the dark hallway with just a few belongings, never intending on coming back.

_He tried to take Sansa away on his own will?_ Myrna fumbled with her dagger while looking down, running her finger over the Beaumont tree sigil engraved on it. _So he was planning on leaving even before he found me? _For some reason she felt like a fool. Light from flames reflected off the silver steel on her blade. She could see her dark eyes look back at her, sad and deep. This was no way to live and sometimes sacrifices must be made. Straightening her posture, she ran out of the Round Room and to the man who was willing to take her out of this hell.


	3. Chapter 3

"You stay close. Some men won't be smart enough to stay out of my way," he barked back at her as he closed up onto the gates for exiting the Red Keep.

An angry storm was washing everything away outside; the noise of the rain nearly drowned out all the screams and shouts from the commoners on the other side trying to seek refuge inside the high walls. When they squeezed out, a few from the outside had managed to squeeze themselves in but The Hound did not care. Immediately Myrna was drenched from head to toe and feared she would lose her grip on her now slippery dagger. Not only did her dress grow heavy from absorbing all the rain water, her feet were being sucked into the mud with every step. She began to breathe heavier and soon she was falling behind on The Hound.

"Wait!" she cried out, bending over to pull a foot that had gone too deep in the mud and she ended up splashing in the mud face first with a yelp.

After wiping mud off her eyes as best she could, she saw feet marching towards her but they were not The Hound's. Her dark eyes focused on the man's snarling face. She had not seen him before but the look on his face would suggest she had done something awful to him. Not taking a chance, she swung her dagger at his ankles and he cried out when she tore his skin open. He nearly fell over, but instead positioned himself so he could get a swing at her face with his other foot. With a gasp she shielded herself with her hands, but the man only cried out again and she heard a wet thump. He was now dead on the ground, and Myrna saw The Hound kneel next to her, his own pants soaked to the bone. He grunted as he picked her up like a baby, an arm under her knees and the other arm around her waist. The ends of her dress were completely ruined and there was not a spot on her that was clean or dry. No one would be even able to tell what color it had been.

"You're already making me regret helping you," he blustered.

Myrna kept her head turned away from him. "Then leave me in the mud for Gregor if I'm such a burden," she muttered back and in a second she met the mud again. Blinking in disbelief, she supported herself with one elbow and stared back up at the man who dropped her. "What the hell!?"

"This what you want?" he growled down at her, rain dripping down his face and running like little streams in the dents on his armor. His hair was matted down over his burn, concealing most of it.

Huffing, Myrna stood back up on her own and put her dagger between her teeth. The stench of the city was rough enough just by breathing it in through her nose, but now with her mouth slightly open she could taste the foulness. Using her free hands, she bundled up the ends of her dress which exposed her legs up to her lower thigh and began walking again towards the outer wall gate. While walking she could feel The Hound's eyes on her and it only added more discomfort.

Relief came over her when she finally saw the northern gate to leave the capital but there were two guards posted near them. "Here," Myrna heard The Hound's voice come from behind her and when she turned to face him he took the dagger from her mouth with a quick swipe.

"Why don't you use your own sword!?" she spat quickly at him, standing in the mud and felt herself sinking in and not being able to chase after him. The mud was up to her ankles and she struggled to free herself while hearing clangs of metal where The Hound went; he was busy with the men. When she looked up again one man had a sword through his belly and The Hound shielded himself with her dagger from the other man. While holding the alive man off, Sandor was able to kick the dead man off his sword but his other foot sank deep into the mud. He then used his free sword to kill the second man with a single swing and stabbed him in the neck with her dagger to make sure he was dead. _He knew the mud would slow him down_, she thought and understood why he took her dagger. Still, she was upset that he just took something of hers without permission. Myrna gave him a pout when he returned to her.

Hands still full with her dress, Sandor offered to put the bloody dagger back between her teeth with what seemed like a smile on his face but she grew furious. "You really are the stupidest thing! Why would I want that bloody thing in my mouth!?" she insulted him as she turned her head away again.

"Learn to understand a joke," he said as he stuffed her dagger somewhere on him and he bent down to grab her knees and managed to pull her out of the mud. Myrna felt him not letting go of her knees, which led her to fall over his shoulder and she saw the muddy ground grow farther away when The Hound stood up. The world spun around her when he turned and marched out the gates. "You got more nerve than the red little bird, I'll tell you that," he had to shout for her to hear.

Once they were inside the stable Myrna saw the ground come at her; The Hound knelt down and placed her back on her feet quite gently. No more rain fell on their heads but they dripped enough water to make the dirt inside the stable turn into mud. She let the ends of her dress fall to the floor and gathered her hair to one side and wrung the water out of her black locks. Her attention went to further down the stable where The Hound had gone and saw he was leading a giant black horse out of its box stall. The horse was beautiful even from afar and she began walking towards them so she could get a better look at him.

When she tried to pet his mane he lifted his front legs in the air and whined. Myrna backed away quickly, nearly tripping on her dress. The Hound let out a roaring laugh. "Stranger has the loyalty of a dog, and he belongs to me. Don't ever think of going near him without me there," he boasted as he went to the wall where they held everything he needed for traveling on horse. Myrna stood by quietly as he strapped the saddle onto Stranger's back and hooked up the reins. There were also cloaks left behind, and he put one on himself and threw the other at Myrna. She wrapped herself up in the dark blue cloak and it was far too big for her but it will keep her dry. The Hound climbed onto the massive horse, hood already over his head. Myrna could barely see his face when he reached down his hand toward her. Warily she approached the horse, afraid of it reacting to her again but she was lifted up swiftly and without trouble. Both legs hung over one side of the horse and there was a groove on the front of the saddle that she could hold on to.

The Hound kicked Stranger in the side which sent them galloping out and back into the pouring rain. Myrna did not realize how fast Stranger was which led her grabbing The Hound's waist with her other arm. Most of the riding was quiet between them, as it was hard to speak while bouncing on a horse's back in a storm. Eventually Stranger came to a slower trot when they had gone a comfortable distance from the capital. Myrna recognized the northern part of the Crownlands, but to where she still did not know.

"That went easier than I thought," The Hound remarked. "Should be an inn coming soon. We'll stay there for a night, but it's camping mostly from them on..."

"I prefer sleeping outside," she replied staring straight ahead.

An inn finally came into view and The Hound made a sharp turn for it. He stopped in front of the doors and eased Myrna down onto the ground and told her to grab a room for them. Stranger began trotting towards the tiny stable the inn offered with The Hound still on his back and Myrna grabbed the rim of her hood as she made her way inside. Sighing while closing the door behind her, she lifted her hood and was greeted by warmth from fire burning in a nearby brazier. A rather short and round lady waddled towards her from a back room and smiled warmly.

"There is another with me," Myrna informed her and shortly after The Hound walked in, his hood still covering him. Myrna wondered if the lady would know him by his face.

"We need a room with two beds," he grabbed a pouch from his pocket and grabbed some silver.

The lady glanced at Myrna and looked her up and down. "Two beds? Lover's quarrel?" she japed quietly but did not hesitate to grab his coin. She told them their room was upstairs before making her way back to where she had been before.

Myrna rolled her eyes and The Hound slightly turned red under his beard and cleared his throat. "We need to leave immediately in the morning, get as much sleep as you can," he grumbled as he made his way up the creaking wooden steps to the second floor of the inn. As she followed him she began thinking more about what they exactly were doing. This was a good time to get answers, she thought as he entered a room and she followed.

The room was plain; dark with only two candles hanging on the walls for light. In the middle of their beds was a large window but were covered by closed curtains. They asked for two beds and that is pretty much what they received, besides a small wooden dresser and a dirty mirror off in the corner. The Hound pulled off the cloak quickly and threw it on the ground along with his sack but did not take off his armor. When he sat on the bed Myrna could have sworn it was going to snap into two parts. She went to investigate the drawers in the dresser to see if anything suitable to wear was in there. Nothing but dust filled the drawers, and she closed it with a sneeze.

"Where do you plan on going?" she wiped the dust off her hands as she walked around her bed and sat on the edge facing him.

He kicked his massive legs onto the bed before answering, or rather not answering. "Anywhere but here," he replied, sounding a tad tired.

"You have absolutely no plan? Why are you even leaving anyway?" she went on.

"Not your problem," The Hound stared up at the ceiling.

Sighing, Myrna crawled to the middle of her bed and sat against the backboard. She remembered all the times Joffrey would call him "dog". Maybe he finally was fed up with Joffrey's insults? It seemed odd that it would make him run off during a battle. "There's worse than Joffrey," she said softly.

He laughed at that. "I know that better than you," The Hound spat. "A high born lady like you probably don't know many things,".

"What's that supposed to mean!?" she flew her legs off the edge of the bed and stood up.

His frown hardened as he turned his head to look at her. She could see his good eye glimmer from the candlelight near his bed and there was anger in them. "You're just like Sansa. A Northern high born lady arranged to marry another high born cunt. What more should I expect besides pretty words and songs from people like you?"

Her blood boiled and her hands turned into shaking fists. " You don't even know what I've been through!" she stammered.

"Just go the fuck to sleep," he groaned loudly before turning to his side.

Myrna clenched her teeth. "I know what a burnt flesh smells like..." she hissed. Slowly, The Hound looked over his shoulder with an uncertain expression on his face. "I've seen people I love _burn_. Their _entire_ bodies... not just a part of their face!" Myrna turned her heel and left the room, slamming the door behind her. Only after a couple of steps she leaned against the cold wall in the hallway and tried to catch her breath. She didn't realize the same lady that welcomed them was watching her closely from the top of the steps with laundry folded in her hands.

"Everything alright, m'lady?" she asked kindly.

"Yes... yes, I'm fine. I just need to walk around," she struggled to find something to say.

The lady walked closer to Myrna, smiling. "Men are such a hassle sometimes, aren't they?" she leaned in and whispered.

She felt her face turn hot. "Oh, no. You don't understand..."

"Oh, but sadly I do... and my, your dress. I can't let you leave like that!" she looked at her tattered and dirty dress with shame.

Myrna stared at the laundry the lady held in her hands. "Do you... by any chance have an extra tunic and a pair of breeches I could have?"

Her answer was yes, and Myrna was overjoyed though the lady gave Myrna awkward looks after hearing that request. She was taken to another room so she could be allowed to change without bothering The Hound but the lady refused to leave and remained there to help her remove her dress.

_Not again_, Myrna looked up at the ceiling and gulped as the lady untied the back of her dress. It felt like forever, just waiting for the same reaction. Once the dress was halfway off the lady tried to hold back a gasp. The same old story came out of Myrna's mouth when she was sure the lady had noticed.

"I was hurt in an accident as a child. My father's barn had caught on fire and I tried to save the animals when a piece of burning wood fell on my lower back. I am sorry, I should have warned you," Myrna said solemnly but inside she was a battlefield.

She continued to help Myrna step out of the dress and handed her the tunic in a hurry. "Well, there is no need to apologize... Do you still need my assistance?"

"No," Myrna slipped the beige tunic on and before she even pulled it down the lady had disappeared_. Is it really that bad?_ Myrna thought, realizing she had never actually seen her burn. There were moments where she would stand before a mirror at the capital and would be tempted to turn around to see the ruins on her back. Every time she ended up too afraid and ashamed to do it. Brushing off these old feelings, she grabbed the chestnut brown breeches and stepped into them and then slipped on her shoes that were still caked with dry mud but she felt so much better. Her back was able to breathe now and moving around was no longer difficult. Myrna regretted not asking for a bath before the lady ran away, but it could not be helped now.

Eventually she made her way back to her room. She peeked through the crack of the door and saw that The Hound still lied awake, staring sternly at the ceiling. He seemed so deep in thought. Did she go too far with what she said earlier? She pushed the door open more and that caught his attention but it seemed the words he wanted to say slipped away when he saw her appearance and narrowed his eyes.

"The fuck you wearing?" he pushed himself up.

Myrna scoffed. "What the hell does it look like I'm wearing?" she climbed back into her bed like she did before. "I am not going to be traveling buffet for men to go up my skirt whenever they please. And you remember how it was back when we were leaving; I could barely walk!"

"Nobody is going to rape you with me around," he assured her with a cocky smirk on his face. "Put a decent dress on or something, don't walk around like a fucking man," he complained.

"I've been wearing breeches for almost eight years and I am not about to change just because I was forced to wear a dress at the capital," Myrna declared.

The Hound glanced at her in disbelief. "Eight years!? I thought you were a bloody high born!"

"I am," she confirmed. "I was pushed out of my hometown when I was thirteen..."

When the sorrowful memories surfaced she did not wish to continue talking about home.

"There was something about my brother and your town, wasn't there?" The Hound mumbled after some silence.

_He must be thinking about what I said earlier_, Myrna thought. "I don't want to talk about it," she turned to her side facing away from The Hound.

That was the end of their chat for the night. When Myrna closed her eyes she made a wish that often was not heard. The next time she opened her eyes she was back home and only thirteen years old. Behind her she heard a man sobbing that sent chills up her spine. Breathing hard, she ran herself into the entrance of the manor and began to bang the door with her fists. Everything around her cracked and crumbled, and she pulled on the door so hard her hands hurt and she broke a fingernail. It would not budge, and soon smoke consumed her and left her vision impaired. Swallowed in gray darkness, she curled into a ball and sobbed along with the man behind her. _Myrna_, additional voices called from behind. Voices she had heard her entire life called out for help but she was just a small, frightened girl.

"_There's nothing I can do!_" she squeaked between tears. Myrna covered her ears to stop the voices but nothing she did helped to block them out. "_Leave me alone!_" she begged and pleaded but to no avail.

"Myrna!" a voice rang loud in her ear.

"I said... _leave me alone!_" she raised an arm and swung towards the voice with all her might, but something grabbed hard onto her wrist. She tried to break free, but it was too strong. Squirming and crying, she shut her eyes tight and felt herself being dragged away. When she opened her eyes to look, everything was clear.

The Hound's usual snarling face was instead gaping at her with wide eyes. She could not help but notice his burn, completely exposed from him not fixing it when he rushed towards her. His massive hand was wrapped around her wrist, and he had been shaking her. "What's that screaming for!?" he demanded to know.

"The fire! He's here!" Myrna gasped for air while looking around, sweat dripping from her forehead. The grip around her wrist loosened and she gave her attention back to The Hound after realizing it was only another one of her night terrors. With the back of her free hand she wiped her forehead and looked down bashfully. "I'm sorry for waking you," she apologized as she pulled away from him.

He took a step towards her bed and turned around, hands on his knees as he lowered himself down onto her bed slowly. The end she sat on lifted up since she was so much lighter than him. Not knowing what else to say, she kept her chin down and hands resting on her lap.

"I need to know if my brother hurt you," he croaked, breaking the silence.

Her eyes darted across the floor rapidly, trying to think of what to say. "Why?" she asked.

"Because if you ever plan on killing him I need you to get that out of your head. If he hurt you, let me get vengeance for you," she could almost feel his voice bounce off her. Everything else was still silent.

"What did he do to you?" she asked another question now looking him in the eye.

The Hound grinded his teeth. Myrna watched him raise his hand and fix his hair so it would cover the ruins of his face. She narrowed her eyebrows, then her dark eyes widened when she understood. She pushed herself closer to him but he stood up and roamed away from her. "I understand, Sandor-"

The way he spun around frightened her, as if he were about to charge at her but instead he spat on the ground. "You? Understand? You don't know a thing. We leave now," he bent over and grabbed the sack he brought from the capital roughly and threw it over his shoulder. She watched him march out, opening the door so hard it banged against the wall and made her jump.

"You're just like me..." she mumbled to herself, thinking of her family and the wound on her back.


	4. Chapter 4

In her hand she held a dead rabbit, and a decent plump one at that. Myrna was incredibly proud of this kill. It would definitely fill their bellies. Hunting had been easier since they came across an abandoned wagon that still held supplies a fortnight ago, including a decent bow and a few arrows. The wind running past her made the air chilly, and the sun was nearly gone. As she walked back she watched the colors from the day sink away in the west and the stars grow brighter in the dark sky. Even when she was younger at Beaumont Hall she enjoyed being outside the town walls and explore the Wolfswood, and the chilly air gave her more of the feeling of home. It was in her blood to explore, as she had heard many tales of how Beaumont's would often go on expeditions beyond the Wall. Myrna always felt like sighing when she thought of her home, which is why she rarely thought of home when she could help it. It felt like there was a piece of her missing but the time that had passed only made her grow used to that feeling.

When she finally walked back into their tiny camp she looked for the fire and grumbled to herself when she saw The Hound sitting against a tree picking his nails with a dagger he had found at the wagon. It reminded Myrna of her own dagger she had strapped to her hip; she had to remind him to give it back to her shortly after their stay at the inn.

"Am I to light the fire _again_?" she asked him, throwing their meal on the ground.

He gestured at some freshly chopped hardwood. "I did the hard part," he boasted.

With a long face Myrna gathered the firewood and their flint and some tinder so she could light a small flame for them. All the while The Hound stared at her, and it was a look she was somewhat used to as a lady but often ignored it but he was beginning to get on her nerves. When she finally skinned their rabbit and hung it over the fire she glowered at him. "Can I help you?" she spat.

"Trying to figure out if you are a maiden or not," he said without shame.

She sucked in some air. "That is none of your business!" she stood up and went as far as she could so she could still feel the warmth of the fire.

The Hound barked a loud laugh. "Considering how shy you are, I am going with maiden. And an old maiden at that," he judged her.

"I'm not old," she defended herself, hugging her legs tight against her chest.

Sadly it was true. There was no man she ever trusted enough to have _that_ kind of relationship, not even her friend Desmond that she traveled with for all those years. Most high born girls her age were already wed and bore their first child, just like Queen Cersei told her at the capital. That led her to think of how Queen Cersei reacted when she had been told about their escape, and King Joffrey too. What would happen if they had ever returned there? Hopefully they never would, but Myrna had no home to return to. Beaumont Hall and her town all burned down eight years ago and she had gone from place to place ever since, hiding from Lannister men ever since she discovered they were after her. Myrna had no idea why they needed her, but she would never trust the men who fought alongside The Mountain. Recently she had thought maybe marrying her to The Mountain was their plan all along. How cruel those people were...

Becoming slightly bored Myrna took out her dagger and began cleaning it. "Have you even used that thing?" The Hound's voice asked her offensively.

"Of course," she replied, turning the blade over and carefully wiping it.

He laughed harshly. "Oh really? Have you killed hundreds of men?" he teased her.

"More or less," she said, giving him a cold stare that turned his mocking smile into a gawking expression. He seemed surprised, but then was quick to dismiss it.

"Sure you have..." he turned his head to look away from her.

This was becoming awkward for her quick so she changed the subject. "Why won't you return to wherever your home is?" she asked The Hound, interested in the rest of his family besides The Mountain. Maybe she could stay there if he goes back.

"Kings Landing was my home, after my father died and my older brother became lord of Clegane Hall," he answered her as if that was all that needed to be said, and it was. Myrna was sure The Mountain was no kind lord.

"I also have an older brother who's a knight," she rambled on. "His name is Nicholas. And my parents were-"

"Knighted by whom?" The Hound asked, sounding more interested in that.

There was a long pause.

The Hound gave her a hard look. "Well?" he pressed on.

"The Mountain," she answered with a tremble in her voice, glancing down at her dagger. She traced the engraved tree on the steel. There was another long pause. Slowly, she looked up at him again and saw he was still staring at her as if he was trying to solve a puzzle. "Nicholas helped catch some well-known cutthroat from the south that tried to hide in the north. They sent The Mountain to anoint Nicholas eight years ago," she continued, not really wanting to but she could not help but feed his curiosity and release some inner turmoil she had built inside her.

He went to help himself to the rabbit after putting his dagger away, then he sat himself back down to where he was and took a big bite. Myrna shook her head when he ripped a piece off and gestured it toward her. She was suddenly no longer hungry. He shrugged and went back to questioning her. "And? What is your _knight_ brother doing now?" he asked between chews.

In the corner of her eye Myrna saw something fly at her, too fast for her to do anything. An arrow dug deep into the bark of the tree she sat against, sending slivers flying everywhere. The Hound struggled to stand up as quick as he could, throwing the rabbit aside. Before he could arm himself a man with a bow came out from hiding, pointing an arrow right at Myrna. The Hound froze, grimacing at the man. Myrna pushed hard against the tree with her back but stared back at the man unblinking, trying to hide any fear.

"Don't even try anything, Clegane..." the man threatened The Hound. "Unless you want to see your bitch here full of arrows," he tilted his head at Myrna.

Two more bowmen went to aim at The Hound, making sure he would not try anything. Then about three more came out with ropes, one went to Myrna and two went to The Hound. _Where the hell did this lot come from?_ She gave The Hound a look but he was busy giving threatening glances at the men tying up his arms.

"Cowards. Leave the girl alone and fight a proper battle," he growled at them.

The man that came to tie her up pulled her up roughly by the arm, making her cry out. "Alright, little lady. Let's get moving here," he propped her up on her feet and twirled her around, beginning to tie a rope around her arms and waist. She winced when the bad part of her back was being pinched. He immediately found her dagger strapped to her hip and swiped it off her. After examining it, he threw it on the ground near the man aiming an arrow at her.

"You needed a new dagger, right Anguy?" he called back at him.

"Aye, that one will suit me just fine," he said impatiently without even looking down.

_No, not my dagger again..._ she thought as her heart dropped. Myrna had only possessed her dagger for a few days. Every few seconds she felt more anxious and was beginning to fear what these men plan on doing with them. _How long had they been following us? And who are they? _The idea of returning to the capital made her stomach twist into a knot but they did not wear the king's colors. In fact what they wore seemed old and battered so it was difficult to tell where they came from. To be caught by mere bandits was embarrassing, especially for her and The Hound. Though they seemed to be more skilled than average bandits; Myrna usually had a keen ear and so did The Hound but neither heard a sound from these men.

Before she knew it there was a bag over her head and she was blinded. They forced her to walk a ways and she knew The Hound was close behind her from hearing his deep muffled voice curse at the men. She began to breathe faster due to the long walk and the lack of knowing where they were going. Myrna let out a grunt when she ran into something and the man behind her grabbed her and threw her onto something. She rolled over and it took her many times to sit up straight as she had no arms to keep her balance. Then whatever she was bounced when something else was thrown on.

The Hound groaned. "Fucking cunts..." he cursed once again.

Fresh air hit her face when a man on the side of the wagon, that she could now see, took the bag off. He walked in a circle and did the same to The Hound. His hair was flipped over on his good side which exposed his burn, and she could see it being pulled from him having a furious expression on his face. The anger on his face softened when he saw her across from him. A breeze sent her dark curls flying in her face which she could not pull away, adding to her irritation. The wagon jerked and the party of men who captured them began making their way to their destination. Myrna looked off the sides and all she saw were tall trees on either side of the dirt road, shadows looked like they were dancing deep in the forest. Everything was hard to see in the night and it was uncomfortable to feel so helpless.

Neither one of them said a thing during their time on the wagon. When she looked at him he was either staring down at the wagon floor or off to the side into the darkness. _He's probably as embarrassed as I am_, she thought. Perhaps more since he promised to protect her. When dawn began to break they came to a halt in front of a tavern. She could not get a wink of sleep due to the rough roads making it hard on them in the wagon. When a man jumped onto the wagon to help her up she felt numb on her behind and everywhere else ached, especially her dry and tightened back. The only good thing about her ropes was that it kept her tunic down and no one would see the burn above her tailbone.

The Hound recognized this particular man. "Thoros?" he questioned him.

The man gave him a quirky smile. "Good to see you again, Clegane..." he said as he helped Myrna jump down onto the dirt with his hands on her waist. She stared at him warily and confused. Thoros looked back at her after responding to The Hound. "We go way back," he chuckled and turned her around and led to into the tavern doors.

In the corner of a tavern a scuffle broke out as Thoros and some other men sat Myrna and The Hound at a table, but not many seemed to pay attention to it. What caught Myrna's attention was one of the voices. It was a woman's, and so familiar she had a name on the tip of her tongue. She twisted as far around as her ropes would allow her, trying to peek around the bodies that were interfering with her view.

"What are you doing?" The Hound whispered hoarsely as he looked down at her.

"Tell me what you see," she replied with her eyes still glued to the corner of the room. There were so many men crowded into the tavern and they were all in the wrong spots so she could not see a single thing that was going on.

He struggled himself to look behind them but he was tall enough to see what the fuss was about, and he scoffed. "A fucking Dornish whore is actually beating the shit out of one of these cunts," he turned back around and tried to adjust himself. "Serves them right," he added under his breath but one of the men heard and gave him a good whack on the top of his head.

_A Dornish whore?_ Myrna was so taken back she did not even realize The Hound was struck.

"Oh no..." she quickly turned back around and did her best to hide, keeping her head down and not looking anywhere. Most of the men shouted a hoot after a huge bang, which sounded like a table had been broken. The woman's voice laughed with them as if she had been victorious. It was a laugh that sent her way back.

After cursing under his breath he gave his attention back to her. "What's the matter now?" he said with agitation.

"I know her. You can't let her see me," Myrna gave The Hound a pleading look and then looked back down at the table.

"Who is she?" The Hound asked, but then footsteps approached them from behind and Myrna watched The Hound from the corner of her eye to see his reaction but he showed none as the person kept coming nearer. Myrna's knees were shaking. What if it was her?

In front of them sat Thoros, smiling as always and he held a mug in his hand. Myrna let out a soft exhale and relaxed her shoulders. "I hope you two are comfortable," he said almost genuinely and then he swallowed whatever was in the mug, most likely rum from the sour smell of it. He gave his attention to Myrna. "I'm sorry this is happening to you, little lady. But a friend of The Hound is an enemy to us," he smirked.

"What did he even do to you?" she asked him, trying to keep her voice down.

Thoros stood up swiftly and walked around the table. They both followed him with their eyes. "That will have to wait 'til trial, I'm afraid..." he informed them.

"Nothing to you lot!" The Hound barked loudly at all of them. "You're just-"

The same guy from before was making his way again to The Hound, and this time Myrna saw him raising his hand to strike.

"_Don't hit him!_" Myrna shrieked.

Silence filled the tavern and the man stood over The Hound, his arm froze in the air as if he did not expect her to yell that loud. Then suddenly Myrna realized she made a mistake and she winced. The same woman's voice from before started coming closer.

"Who is that?" the pretty voice was behind Thoros and then Myrna watched her walk around him. She was eight years older but still the same woman. She was of Dornish descent, and tall for a woman but also shapely. The golden color of her silk exoic dress stood out amongst her darkened skin, which most was exposed. Her short raven black hair was pulled back with a golden band and her big dark eyes examined Myrna, and they widened with surprise. "Sweetling..." she gasped in her southern accent as she ran towards her, and Myrna was impacted with a strong hug.

Myrna just sat there as she was being held; she needed arms to hug back. "Brenda..." she softly said.

"You're alive!" she exclaimed as she pulled away but kept her hands on Myrna's shoulders. Brenda examined every inch of her. "And you have tits now!" she laughed, and some of the men chuckled as well even though they had no idea what was going on.

Thoros walked slowly over to the reunited ladies and placed his mug gently down and then began to pull Brenda away from Myrna. "She is in our custody. I'm going to have to ask you to keep your distance," he said but was suddenly pushed back by Brenda harshly. The look on his face made Myrna guess he half expected that to happen.

"I was to wed her brother! You're telling me to keep distance from my sister?! She's my family!" Brenda crudely spat at him in his face.

Myrna did not know where to look. If she kept looking at Brenda she would only be faced with questions. They would be questions she would not want to answer; they would be about the fate of her home and her brother. Brenda was not there when it all happened. If Myrna were to turn around and away from Brenda, however, she would have to look at The Hound. She knew he would also have questions or at the very least give her his hard gaze which made her irritated. She simply kept her head down and stared at the table while Thoros tried to calm down Brenda. Everyone in that room felt like a stranger to her.

"If The Hound is innocent then you have nothing to worry about," Thoros assured Brenda.

Brenda looked back at them, but mostly at The Hound now. Her dark eyes squinted as she examined him. "He does not look like the innocent type. You think this will calm me?" she whirled back around, facing Thoros. "Release Myrna this minute. She surely has nothing to do with this!"

"I will have the same fate as Sandor Clegane," Myrna said aloud, now looking up.

Everyone looked at her. Shyly, she glanced at him and saw The Hound gaping at her with soft eyes. Why did she get so angry when Brenda insulted The Hound? No matter the reason, Myrna was making it known she was on The Hound's side. He claims to have done nothing to them and Myrna knew he would never lie.

"I've heard things about The Hound, Myrna. He is no man you want to be with!" Brenda exclaimed as she put her hands on her wide hips. "Why are you even with him? What happened to Desmond?" she went on with a motherly tone to her voice.

Myrna opened her mouth but nothing came out. Her face turned red and she went right back to having her chin down. Does Brenda think she is _with_ him?

"She's not my woman," The Hound strongly defended them for Myrna.

The conversation ended when the tavern door swung open and a proud looking man stepped in. The entire Brotherhood inside the tavern stood up and faced him. He wore a purple lightning on his chest, and a black cloak hung on his back. A longsword hung on his hip and he held the hilt as he gazed around the tavern. "We move again. We're heading straight to hollow hill," he commanded, and gave a quick look to Myrna and The Hound before turning back around and walking out.

"Beric Dondarrion?" The Hound rasped to himself.

All the men immediately poured out the door, following the man. _Is he their leader? It seems The Hound knows him._ Myrna wondered as a man pulled her up and out of her seat, but more gently this time as Brenda had an eye on him. She had to walk quickly to keep up with the man, and soon her and The Hound were thrown onto the same wagon except this time they had more company. Brenda hopped on and sat next to her with a concerned look on her face, but she smiled all the same.

A man on the side of the wagon handed Brenda two empty woolen bags and gave her the command to put them on Myrna and The Hound. Clenching her teeth, she obeyed. First she placed it over The Hound's head, with the clear look of disgust on her face. It was hard for her to look at his burn. Then she knelt down in front of Myrna.

"I'm sorry, sweetling..." she apologized as she gently put the bag on her head. Everything went dark and the bag smelled of wheat. In a matter of moments she heard the wagon slowly creak as the wheels began turning and soon they were bumping along the road again.

Soon her back ached horribly, and she had to deal with it for a long time. She wished the ride would soon be over but at the same time she was afraid what would happen when they stopped. Thoros claimed there would be a trial, but how fair were these men?

Brenda's hushed voice whispered near the side of her face. "I won't let them hurt you," she promised.

Those words made everything surreal. Was she really ready to face the same punishment as The Hound if he were to be found guilty? His punishment was likely to be death. If Brenda kept her word, she had nothing to fear but not even Brenda could defend her against all these men. Somehow if she could get untied she could probably run for it but she would never forgive herself for leaving behind The Hound. She is all he has, and she knew no one else would stand up for him. Her thoughts disappeared when she felt a jerk from the wagon coming to a halt and she nearly toppled over but Brenda grabbed onto her. Feet jumped up onto the wagon, and someone bigger than Brenda picked her up. They did not take off the bag so early this time. After walking some ways downhill, she felt her toe scrap against an unexpected rock and nearly tripped.

"Careful, young lady..." the man holding onto her warned her.

The further down they went, the hotter it became. Soon Myrna was sweating and she wished for fresh cool air. She wanted to wipe beads of sweat off her forehead and neck but her arms were still tied down against her waist. Finally they came to a stop and the bag came flying off her. When Myrna looked around all she saw were small fires lit in random spots on a cave floor, and some torches hung along the wet walls. She felt a tug on her rope and instantly she felt relief as the ropes were cut off and fell to the ground. Myrna rubbed her upper arms where the ropes had been digging into her skin. Her back also ached but she held herself back from rubbing it, not wanting anyone to see she was hurt there. Soon came The Hound, and he still was blinded from the bag but once the men helped him to his spot they took his off just as quick as they did to her. They did not remove his ropes, though. Myrna knew they weren't that stupid.

The entire Brotherhood circled them. Myrna spotted Brenda among them, and there were other women too dressed as she was. _So you ended up going back to your old habits_, Myrna disappointedly thought. Brenda had been a whore most of her life, or so she told Myrna back when they lived at Beaumont Hall. Nicholas had fallen in love with her, and together they had a rocky relationship that deserved a song. Brenda swore to never return to her old job but there she was. It seemed Brenda knew what Myrna was thinking but her mind was occupied with other things, most likely this trial.

"You sons of whores are all cowards," The Hound barked at them. He had sweat dripping from his forehead and his burn glistened red against the light from the flames. Myrna could see some fear in his eyes but figured he was doing his best to not be afraid. _Why would he be afraid in the first place_, she wondered. He was one of the strongest warriors in Westeros.

"And the King's guard dog that ran away from the Blackwater battle is no coward?" a voice boomed from within the crowd, and men stepped aside to reveal the man that had led them out of the tavern. Now his sword was in his right hand, and on his left he held a shield that had a matching purple lightning bolt from his vest.

Myrna took a step back while examining him. Then she looked to The Hound and he back at her. "Sandor is no coward," she tried to defend him. "Even if he did run, why put him on trial for it? He did not abandon _you_," Myrna went on but felt she only made it sound worse.

"I'm afraid that is not the reason he is here," Beric remarked.

A man she did not recognized stepped out from the crowd. "The Lannister's have slain too many. Each of us has seen countless of loved ones fall to Lannister swords. House Clegane especially has taken advantage of our lives just so you can please those monsters you serve," he sneered.

"The Targaryen children were laid in front of the throne before my own eyes. House Clegane was built upon the deaths of innocence," Thoros added.

The Hound growled. "My _brother_ did that. I was never there!" he roared. "If you want to call me a murderer than give me names of real men I have cut," The Hound walked around, staring at the crowd. Nearly every man in the crowd began shouting names but with every name it only angered The Hound more. He claimed to have never killed any of them or even heard their names. That infuriated Myrna. These men were putting him on trial for crimes he did not commit? Sure, he was notorious for killing but he is also well known for speaking the truth. If The Hound killed someone he would not be afraid in the least to admit it. In fact he _wanted_ you to know.

"You murdered my friend! You killed Mycah!" a small voice cried out. Myrna watched as a dirty child pushed himself out of the crowd so he could be heard. There had never been a more angry expression on a child's face.

The Hound took a few steps so he could see who was accusing him. "Who're you, boy?" he snarled, his scar pulling his face in an unpleasant manner.

"I'm not a boy, I'm a girl! And you killed the butchers boy, my friend Mycah!" the tomboy shouted.

For a second The Hound was puzzled but then he came to a realization. "Seven hells, you're the young Stark girl. How the hell did you end up here?"

_Stark?_ Myrna blinked as she looked back at the boy who was now a girl. She remembered Sansa mentioning her younger sister but she couldn't remember the name. Was this truly Sansa's sister in front of them? How did she end up with men like this? So many questions ran through her head in a short amount of time but she had to listen to the rest of the trial.

"Do you admit to killing this Mycah?" Beric intervened.

Myrna looked at The Hound with uncertainty. This did not sound good.

"Aye, the boy attacked the prince. It was my duty to protect him," The Hound stated.

The Stark girl yelled again. "He didn't attack Joffrey. I did! He just ran away and you killed him!"

"It's not my place to question princes!" The Hound shouted back.

Beric stepped in and raised his sword to signal everyone to calm down. It took him a moment to collect his thoughts and everyone waited for him to say something. "No one here knows the truth or falsehood so it is not for us to decide but our God," he called out. Myrna saw the look on the young Stark girl's face turn into a devastated one. "This will be solved by a trial by combat," he eyed The Hound.

A twisted smile appeared on The Hound's face. "You're mad," he cackled. "Alright. So who will it be? Who wants to die today?" he walked in a small circle to face the crowd around them.

"Not so fast, dog. The Lord of Light spoke to me and commanded me to give you a champion," Beric softly said and the only other noise within the cave were the crackling of the flames. "As will I have my own champion..." he swiftly turned and looked upon his crowd.

The Hound took a few steps toward Beric but stopped knowing he could not do anything without his arms. "What do you mean I can't fight my own battle!?" he roared, spit flying out of his mouth. Myrna heard Thoros chuckle at him.

Beric ignored The Hound's objection. "Who will be the champion for The Hound?" he asked the crowd.

_No one will willingly be his champion_, Myrna knew. Looking at the faces in the crowd all she saw were sneers and glowering eyes, including the young girl and Brenda. These people wanted The Hound's brother dead. They despised House Clegane, including The Hound. It would be ridiculous for them to allow him to fight, and Myrna was sure the "lord of light speaking to him" was folly. The Hound would win the battle in a heartbeat and these men knew that. There was nothing else that she could do but this one thing. Her heart began to race and she held her breathe before taking a step toward the leader.

"I will be Sandor Clegane's champion!" Myrna cried out.


	5. Chapter 5

Beric watched her closely and took a few steps until he was in front of her. "You do know this is to the death? And that your pet here will suffer the same fate as you?" his voice was as smooth as silk.

"I understand," she replied.

The Hound had to step in. "You're fucking mad if you do this!" he roared at her.

Some people in the crowd became angry as a person pushed through to reach the open area. Myrna watched as Brenda tried to run towards them but people held her back. "I won't allow it!" she screamed, trying her best to break free. "Myrna, don't do this!" she cried out.

"He is innocent and I will free him!" Myrna shouted back. She gave Beric a stern look and he nodded, pulling out his sword and laying it at her feet. He gave a command to Thoros to give up his own sword so it would be used for Beric's champion. Myrna was anxious to find out who her opponent was, but it was unlikely for it to be anyone she knew. Over Brenda's wails Beric looked upon them and eyed a particular man. He curled his finger towards him signaling the man to walk over. The man was huge, almost as tall as The Hound but he had a meaner look to him. He had no hair on top of his head but a long beard with braids intertwined within it. He wore no armor but some rags and breeches and some worn out boots from traveling.

The man towered over Beric and frowned. "Do you have a problem fighting this lady, Arthur?" he asked.

His glassy green eyes inspected her. "The Mountain raided my village. Raped my pregnant wife. Killed her and my unborn child. If this little one wishes to defend his blood then I will squeeze that pretty neck and take pleasure in sending her to one of the seven hells," he boomed.

Myrna felt something come at her from her side and peered up at The Hound who was panting and trying to find something to say. "Don't..." he began, shaking his head. Sweat dripped off his face and his eyes darted back and forth between hers.

"Remember when you asked me if I had ever used my dagger?" she asked him softly.

His mouth tightened and he shook his head. "That man will kill you. He's almost as big as I am," he hoarsely whispered back, dismissing what she asked him. "Back down. It's better than both of us dying," he said in a surprisingly kind tone despite the dryness of his throat.

"Maybe I've been training to kill giant men for the past eight years," she replied sharply.

The Hound blinked with surprise and she broke off her gaze as she approached Beric and the man. The crowd was throwing slanders at her. Every name in the book was said about her but she knew they were just trying to hurt her fighting spirit. They wanted her to die so The Hound would follow her.

"Myrna, please..." she heard Brenda plead once more but she dismissed it.

Arthur picked up Thoros' sword and gave it a few swings as Beric gave them both a curt nod and stepped away. Myrna's sword still laid at her feet. Her eyes examined every inch of him and tried to pinpoint his weak spots. _His reach is longer than mine, but I can still do this..._ she watched him practice his deadly blows. Then he finally began marching towards her. When Myrna walked around her sword and faced him empty handed most gasped, and some laughed. She heard The Hound and Brenda clamor angrily but she blocked them out. With two hands Arthur raised his sword high and yelled out as he slammed it straight down where she stood, but she charged to the right and avoided the blow. Before he picked his sword up she stepped close to him and gave a sharp strike on his wrist. Arthur yelped and shook his wrist, only one hand holding onto the sword but she was cautious and backed away for now. Some people laughed at that. He grabbed his sword again with two hands but she could see his left hand did not grip so well anymore. Once again he raised the sword high and made the same mistake again. When Myrna dodged she was able to land another strike on the same hand. This time he cried out from not being able to feel his hand.

Deciding to take a chance this time, Myrna tried to strike his right hand but he picked up the massive sword with just that single hand. Gasping, she crouched down quickly when she saw the sword coming at her from a sideways swing. She felt the blade cut the air above her head. Then he raised the sword and it landed where she had been crouching seconds ago; she rolled over more to the right and near his ankles.

Sweat dripped in her eyes and she quickly wiped them away before hitting two strikes in a row at one of his kneecaps. Myrna backed away quickly as he collapsed on the knee she punctured with her fingers and he held himself up with his sword. The way she had backed away was clumsy and with a cry she landed on her rear and saw that her strikes were not enough to paralyze his knee. Now the crowd was really riled up and they encouraged Arthur to go after her now. Arthur stood back up while grunting loudly and he cried out when he used his good hand to raise his sword. All the veins in that arm were popping out. Myrna felt the blade Beric gave her from behind and she quickly snatched it and grabbed the hilt and laid the flat of the sword on her other hand to attempt to block the strike.

"Myrna, _no!_" she heard Brenda wail.

"Kill her! The Hound has to die!" the Stark girl cried out to the man from the other end of the cave.

The sword came down with a loud clang and the swords screeched as the steel blades scraped against the other. Myrna clenched her teeth and her arms shook violently as she positioned her sword where she needed it so Arthur's blade would not reach her face. The man walked closer to her and he now had two legs on either side of her and he lifted up the sword to try and get another good swing. When he lifted his sword Myrna threw her foot up and thrusted it in his crotch area. He lost his sword and with his good hand grabbed himself while yelling in pain. Again, she used her foot and with the heel of her boot she sent it flying at his hand that held his crotch. She heard a crack and he yelled again now looking at his hand that was now broken. Angry, he lifted his foot and stomped on her stomach hard. Myrna howled in pain and tried to find a nerve to pinch but the nearest one was out of reach. The giant scar on her back was in agony from being rubbed against the uneven, rocky cavern ground. His teeth bared down at her as he continued to dig his foot deeper into her stomach. Having no other choice, Myrna used the sword as best she could while having the air pushed out of her but her swing was too weak.

The sword was heavy and it came crashing down at her side, but she still held on. Arthur began to laugh. "This is what you deserve for defending trash like a Clegane," he sneered, the light from the flames bounced off his shiny bald head and his nose was dripping with sweat.

Myrna stared at his heavy foot that pinned her to the ground. If she could not swing the sword, she could use it the other way. Looking back up at him, she smiled despite the distress on her body and pulled the sword close to his ankle. When he saw that she was about to slide it across his skin he immediately pulled his foot away but Myrna threw her lower body up and grabbed his ankle with her thighs, and twisted. The bone in his ankle popped and he cried louder than he ever did during the trial. Myrna rolled over and crawled away while still holding onto the sword, coughing and gasping for air.

"_Kill that cunt!_" she heard The Hound boom from the edge of the open area where he stood. "_Don't let him get back up!_"

When she felt like she could stand, she used the sword to help her up while wheezing and she turned around to look at Arthur. Both his hands were useless, and his broken ankle disabled him from walking. She slowly walked towards him, sword dragging behind her. The crowd began yelling, and she couldn't tell if they were for her or against her. It didn't matter. Arthur was a dead man.

He laid on his back and held his pathetic hands over his head. The man was shaking from the fear of dying, but she did not care. Myrna held the sword as high as she could, and she swung it down with all her might. The blade cut through his hand, but only went halfway through his skull. his arms went limp and fell to his sides. Myrna put her foot on the man's chest and pulled it out, dark blood streaming out of the man's head and hands. It was not good enough. Once again she lifted the bloody sword in the air and screamed loud when she swung it into the already opened skull and this time she felt the back of the head. It slid out with ease.

"_No...!_" she heard the Stark girl's voice over the others. Her vengeance was taken from her.

The hilt of the sword slipped from her hands and it fell to the ground with a _clink_. It was over with and she held her stomach as she tried to catch her breath. Her stomach felt ill from breathing in the scent of blood and probably from the man's boot being so buried in her. She tried to remember the last time she had a challenge like this. Years, perhaps. Her knees burned from all the movement and the wet cavern ground looked as comfortable as any bed she'd seen. After she regained stamina she finally began to sense what was happening around her. She gathered her frizzy damp curls and threw them over one shoulder as she gave The Hound a proud look. His mouth was slightly open as if he had never seen a lady kill a man, but there was also relief in his eyes.

"Tell me your name," Beric's voice boomed louder than she had ever heard. Myrna averted her eyes for a few seconds and decided she had no choice but to obey.

She faced Beric and looked him in the eye. "My name is Myrna of House Beaumont," she answered loudly.

"Beaumont..." Beric tasted her family name. Him and Thoros looked at each other at the same time with the same look on their face. Beric gave Myrna back his attention. "The younger sister of Nicholas Beaumont?"

Myrna looked over at Brenda but she shook her head. If she never told him, then how? "And how do you know my brother?" she carefully questioned him.

"I was there at the capital when The Mountain and his party returned from your home to anoint your brother. No one had ever seen him so angry. All he said was 'Nicholas' over and over again. 'Nicholas... Nicholas...' Soon we learned that this Nicholas is the only man to have ever belong to The Mountain and leave with his head on his shoulders. His treachery was paid with The Mountain burning his home to the ground... and the younger sister was missing and was most likely thought to be dead in a ditch but here she stands before us," Beric smiled for the first time.

Her eyes went to the ground. He may have known more than anyone else, but not the whole story. Still, she felt naked. That was too much about her and too many ears heard. "Are we free to go?" she looked back up as she changed the subject.

Thoros swiftly went to Beric's side and spoke softly but still loud enough for everyone to hear. "The Mountain had Lannister's search for her all this time. He wants her and will most likely look for her again. She's the best bait we've ever had. Think about it..." he urged Beric.

"Myrna is _not_ bait for my brother!" The Hound roared. "You wanted trial by combat and she won. Now let us leave before I shove a sword up your sorry arses," he threatened as if he were free already.

It was the first time Myrna heard The Hound say her name aloud, and he was so quick to defend her. It felt sweet and it made her heart beat faster. She stared at him and he noticed, and he averted his gaze so he could continue glaring at the men who held them.

Then she looked to Brenda when she noticed that she had been quiet. Brenda's face darkened, probably because of the talk of Nicholas. How much did Brenda know?

"The Lord of Light freed them for a reason, Thoros. We cannot keep them any longer," Beric decided.

Men rushed towards them. As quick as they had taken the bags off their heads they were right back on, but they did not retie Myrna up. Strong hands held onto her and now it was an uphill climb to exit the cave which was even worse than going downhill. Often her feet would slip from the slick ground they were on and she would land on her knees. The hands holding onto her would roughly pick her up and keep her going. Then they were thrown onto the same wagon again once they reached flat ground. Her clothes were becoming damp and she felt drops on her exposed skin. When Myrna asked where they were dropping them off no one would reply. She felt like she was talking to a wall.

The ride away did not feel as long as the ride there but it was just as uncomfortable, and more wet. The only good thing was that it was a light rain. No matter if her eyes were open or shut, everything around her was black. She calmed herself by closing her eyes, pretending there was a world to be seen if she were to open them. Brenda's face kept appearing. It had been a long time since she saw her, and seeing her again refreshed her memories of Brenda. It was her pretty Dornish face that helped her greatly in her profession and she remembered the day Nicholas introduced her to Brenda, the first person of Dornish descent she had ever met. Dark skinned, tall and busty was as exotic as one woman could be in the North. Brenda had used her charm to immediately make Myrna glad to be her future sister, but it had been a different story with their parents. Charm was not enough to marry a noble lord's son.

The wagon halted to a stop rather gently and it bounced when someone came to swipe the bag off her head and throw her off. Myrna landed on her knees and hands, and as she stood back up she wiped the mud on her hands off on her breeches. Her attention was first directed to the sound of hooves walking around the wagon.

"Stranger," Myrna smiled despite being treated like trash. It was hard to believe they were giving their horse back to them and he had everything they left on him.

The Hound was pushed off after her, and he fell hard to the ground with his limbs still tied down. He did not take that as lightly as she had. Stranger neighed loudly when he landed as if he knew that was The Hound. Myrna ran to his side and helped him sit up straight and saw her dagger land next to them. When she looked up she saw Anguy smile down at her as the wagon rolled away. "Blades were never my thing," he called to them while raising up his bow to aim an arrow at them. "If you untie him before we're out of sight, you'll die!" he had to say louder now for them to hear him.

Silently they watched them roll away, Myrna with a hand on The Hound's shoulder as she crouched next to him. Once they disappeared over a hill she reached for her dagger and began to cut at the ropes binding his arms down. He watched her cut the final strand and he exhaled loudly once he moved his arms around for the first time. Myrna stood up and backed away to give him room to push himself up and stretch. He had his back turned to her and he went to rub Stranger's nose. Myrna wasn't so sure of what to say so she just stood there fiddling with her dagger.

The Hound mounted Stranger and looked to her as he pulled out his cloak from the sack he kept on Stranger. Rain became coming down more rapid. "Let's get moving," he ordered.

She walked over next to Stranger and grabbed onto The Hound's hand as he lifted her up in front of him. The Hound handed her the cloak she wore when they first left King's Landing and she quickly wrapped it around herself. Her legs dangled off the edge and she wrapped an arm around his waist. The Hound kicked Stranger's side and they trotted down the road that had tall pine trees on either side. Soft fog rolled by due to the rain which hindered their sight. Worry came over her once she started to realize that they barely had any money left and they didn't have as much supplies or food anymore thanks to the Brotherhood. Considering how quiet The Hound was, she figured he had that realization awhile back. Perhaps they could find a place to lodge, a village that would be fine with them moving in for the winter. Most knew about The Hound, though, and Myrna figured it would be difficult to find a place that would welcome him. They had to think of a plan. There was no way they could survive in the winter by just camping wherever they ended up when the sun set.

"That was stupid of you," he finally rasped.

Myrna kept looking down the road and all she saw was a wall of white between the trees. "No one else would have been your champion. I had no choice," she replied.

"Still..." he trailed off. "Don't throw your life away so easily. Especially for me," he continued.

"Maybe you're my only friend," she said sadly.

He made a scornful sound. "That Dornish whore back there seemed friendly enough towards you," he claimed. "What was all that about anyway?"

"It was just as she said. She was to marry my brother Nicholas," she murmured.

He remained quiet for a minute as if he was thinking. "All of a sudden this Nicholas is everywhere. Even Beric mentioned him and my brother along with it. And if it's true that my brother wants yours dead..."

"I don't really want to talk about our brothers," Myrna became snippy.

"All I'm saying is that one day I'm going to put an end to my brother. Then yours will no longer be in danger. Doesn't that make you happy?" he croaked as they came to a fork on the road. The Hound made a quick decision and picked a path without even stopping Stranger. "That can be my payment for you," he added more softly.

Her eyes shyly went to the ground. He could not know, so she did not get angry at him. When she was looking down at the muddy road they were on she realized he was following the fresh tracks from the wagon they had been riding on. She doubted that was a coincidence. Myrna held her tongue and let him pursue them for awhile longer. The day was getting shorter and soon they would need to camp before it became dark and foggy. Chances were they wouldn't be able to catch up and for Myrna that would be preferable. They had enough trouble with the Brotherhood.

As she expected, The Hound slowly made Stranger come to a stop when there was a clearing next to them. He nudged her side and she lifted herself off of Stranger first. Most of their belongings they had left were wrapped up behind The Hound. When he swung his leg over and lifted himself down he grabbed what was left of their belongings and there was hardly anything.

"Shall I try to find some rabbit?" Myrna asked.

His chin went down before responding. "They took our bow and arrows," he replied abruptly.

"But I have this," she raised her dagger, drops of water running off the blade.

When he looked to see what she was holding he glared at her. "This is no fucking joke. We need food," he grumbled.

"Then I'll be back with a rabbit," she disputed before turning around and walked into the small clearing. Myrna stopped and turned back around towards The Hound. "And there better be a fire burning when I get back!" she added and his glare only intensified. Myrna continued walking until she was in the pine woods, ignoring his mean looks.

The rain made it unlikely for her to find anything. Still, she had to prove to him that she could hunt with her dagger. Myrna had done it a few times before with it. If it were properly thrown, it could easily kill small game. Every time she had done it, though, the weather had been on her side. Not wandering too far from the clearing, she crept behind every tree and peered around. All she saw were squirrels crawling on the trunks, too far and too small for her to even attempt.

It felt like forever and the only reason she stayed as long as she did was that the pine trees gave her some shelter from the rain. _Perhaps it would be better to sleep over here_, she thought, but she didn't want to risk starting a forest fire. Nothing was running around for her to catch. Myrna dragged her feet when she turned around and admitted defeat. Earlier she killed a man two times bigger than her, but she couldn't catch a silly rabbit in the fog and rain.

When she entered the clearing she saw The Hound crouching by some sticks that were apparently their fire wood. He was scraping flint over the tinder and grimaced every time he did a stroke. The rain had nearly stopped, but everything was still too wet for a comfortable camp. _Everything_ agitated her at this point.

"No fire yet?" she crossed her arms when she walked up to him, dagger still in one of her hands.

He peered up at her and looked at her hands. "No rabbit?" he mocked as he looked away angrily. "And I'm bloody trying!" he roared and stroked faster only to throw everything down seconds later.

"The only time you try is when everything is as fucking wet as a whore's cunt!" Myrna screamed at him.

The Hound stood up and towered over her. "What do you want me to do!?" he hollered back, spit flying on her face but she didn't dare flinch. "We have no fucking money! No fucking food! No fucking dry place to stay!"

"You didn't have to come with me when I left King's Landing!" she yelped back.

The Hound cackled a mean laugh in her face. "I didn't leave because of _you_. I was going to leave no matter what so don't think you're so fucking special!"

"I can't be around you right now," she whispered sharply as she turned around hugging herself. There was nowhere to go, though. All she had was a pissed off man to help her survive. For now she decided to would go back to the pine woods and cool off. When she entered she found the biggest trunk and sat next to it while hugging her knees and resting her head against the hard bark. She began breathing heavier and sniffled. It had been a long time since she felt so helpless and alone like the way she felt now. About a year ago when she was brought to the capital was the last time she felt this lonely. Tears ran down her cheeks and she wiped them away, and she had to keep wiping as there was no end to them.

Behind her she heard footsteps softened by the damp grass and she buried her face in her arms. "Go away," she muffled.

"It's better under the trees," The Hound's voice was behind her but he did not sound as angry as he did earlier. "Why are you crying?"

Myrna refused to answer because she knew her voice would be weak and shaky from her sobs. One thing she hated was to be thought as fragile. She just shook her head while keeping it buried away from view.

She could feel his warmth as he sat next to her. He was unusually quiet. Myrna swallowed her sobs and tried to dry her face as best she could. Night had come and it was colder than she thought it would be. The hair on her body all stood up. Myrna wished there was a fire to warm her.

"You shouldn't ask me to build fires anymore. I don't like fire," he hoarsely told her. "When I was small my brother found me playing with one of his toys. It was a little wooden knight and I was a silly little boy who thought that one day I would be a knight like my father and grandfather..." he went on and Myrna raised her head slightly.

She wiped the last of her tears away and sat up straighter as she paid more attention to his voice. "When my brother walked in he did not say anything at all. He just... walked up to me. I thought he was just going to take it away but no. He picked me up instead. My face was pushed into the brazier... and the pain was terrible," his usually hard voice was very soft. It almost sounded as if he were going to start crying with her.

Shock paralyzed her for a few seconds. When she took in his story she slowly turned herself around to look at him. His eyes met hers. She wanted so badly to say something, but she could not think of the right words to say. Myrna broke their gaze at each other and looked down at her lap. She gently placed her dagger on the ground and her hands went up the her collar and she began taking off her cloak.

"What... What are you doing?" The Hound asked with his deep voice slightly trembling.

Myrna faced away again and sat on her knees. She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Lift my shirt..." she commanded him.

"Why?" he asked hoarsely but she felt her shirt lift up in the back. His hand froze midway. "How...?" he changed his question.

Now that he had seen she quickly pulled away so her shirt would be free of his hand and fell back down. She gathered her cloak and wrapped herself in it once more before sitting facing him. "It was like Beric said. Your brother knighted mine eight years ago. They were our guests that night, Gregor and his men. I was asked to do some chore or something and I wandered outside to see the gates wide open and there were shouts. I went to see what was going on... and I saw Gregor kill one of _his_ men. I was frightened. I said nothing... until the next morning when I saw my brother Nicholas in chains. Gregor put the blame on my brother and I couldn't keep my stupid mouth shut. In front of everyone I... I called him out. I don't remember what happened right after that. Gregor struck me across the head. He had this weird smile though..." Myrna stopped talking as Gregor's face came to mind. Every other time he had this terrible frown on his face except for that one moment when he had a good look at her. She had almost forgot about it.

"My brother? Smiling? You were probably dreaming..." The Hound rasped. "So... what happened then?"

"I woke up at my friend Desmond's house deep in town. When I walked back to my manor it was on fire..." she paused again. How could she say it? "That's how _this_ happened," she said quickly.

The Hound seemed to want to know more, but he let it drop. "So awhile back when you said you understand... you were not lying," he seemed to be talking more to himself than her.

They were both exhausted and stopped talking about their pasts. Myrna laid down on her side and placed her dagger within arms reach; The Hound leaned against the trunk of a tree and kept his blade near his hip on the ground. She kept her eyes open despite being so tired. In her mind she was going through what happened since they were caught by the Brotherhood, and the conversation she just had with The Hound stood out amongst everything. Somehow she felt they had began to bond with one another, almost the way she had bonded with Desmond. Myrna found herself beginning to care for him. Why else would she had defended him?

Her thoughts were interrupted by some noise within the pine woods, but she ignored them. Myrna attempted to close her eyes and sleep but they opened again. The noises were coming closer and she tried to listen closely to see if she could decipher what it was.

The Hound made a groan as he quickly found his feet, and she heard him pull his sword out of its sheath. Myrna jerked up to see what was happening.

"Don't move!" he bellowed at someone and he was ready to charge.

_Not again..._ Shaken, she peered over her shoulder to see who it was. Myrna's jaw dropped.


	6. Chapter 6

"Wait, you told me you were taking me to my brother!" the young girl from the Brotherhood snapped at another familiar face.

In the darkness Myrna made out Brenda standing cautiously and a hand was firmly grasped on the Stark girl's shoulder. Her eyes were glued on The Hound who threatened them. "Okay, now. Take it easy... just hear me out..." she calmly pleaded.

"Did you lead the bloody Brotherhood back here!? I _knew _those cunts wouldn't let me go alive," The Hound growled.

Myrna slowly stood up and put herself between The Hound and Brenda to try and calm everyone down but she was uneasy herself. Her hand gripped her dagger so tight her knuckles turned white. She faced towards Brenda and would occasionally glance at the Stark girl who glowered at everyone. "What is this, Brenda?"

"Money. Stark's are worth a lot," she tugged the girl's shoulder to make her step forward. The girl became more visible and her eyes more menacing. "I also have my own coin. Do you think I would just let you starve out here in the cold?"

For a moment Myrna wanted to believe they had come here to help, but it was hard to trust people who just came from a group that nearly killed them. Brenda's face seemed genuine enough, but the Stark girl could be a problem whether she supported the Brotherhood or not. She made it loudly known that she wanted The Hound dead. How could Brenda even think this would work? However, they were desperate for money and this was their chance to find food and shelter for the time being. She turned halfway so she could see what The Hound made of this. He was clearly angry, red cheeks under his beard and still ready to charge at Brenda. His glassy brown eyes met with Myrna's when he saw her turn around.

"What do you think?" she asked while gesturing at Brenda and the girl.

He looked back at them and his mouth tightened. "I don't trust them," he rasped. "Not one bit..."

She glanced down at her feet and turned her head back around to face Brenda. "You stay right there. I need a moment alone with Sandor," she ordered. Brenda nodded.

Myrna swiftly walked towards The Hound and grabbed his arm to pull him farther away. He rather easily let her pull him away but he wouldn't take his eyes off of them. When they were far enough away Myrna slid her hand off of him and rose her chin so she could see his face that was still occupied with what Brenda and the girl were doing. In the night air it was not so hard to look at him, with his hair covering some of his burn in a way he did look like a normal man in the dark. "I don't think we have a choice..." she began softly.

"They're working with the Brotherhood! They want to bloody kill me," he hoarsely whispered, taking quick glances between Myrna and them while gritting his teeth. "Our first night sleeping at camp I swear they will try to cut my throat," he added.

Myrna huffed. "This is hard for me, too. I know she's going to want to talk about my past but... Brenda loves me. She wouldn't hurt a friend of mine, I swear that!"

"Aye, and do you swear that little wolf-bitch won't try anything? I killed her fucking butcher's boy," he narrowed his eyes specifically at the girl. Her blue eyes focused back on him from afar.

There was a pause between them. Both knew that the girl would be a problem they would have to deal with. Denying money right in front of them would be stupid, though. "We should accept their offer," Myrna decided.

"It would be different if it were your life on the line," The Hound grumbled but he looked back at them with a rather pensive expression now. "I know our pockets are as empty as our bellies," he admitted.

"Then lets tell them," she softly said as she began walking back to them with The Hound putting his sword back in its sheath reluctantly as he walked next to her.

Brenda's eyes looked relieved when she saw The Hound put his guard down. "Oh, thank the Gods this was all not all for nothing," she sighed.

"You _told_ me you were taking me to my brother!" the Stark girl yelled louder now and managed to get out of Brenda's grip.

"We are, sweet child..." Brenda assured her and then gave her attention to Myrna and The Hound to explain. "Arya's mother and brother will be at The Twins for her uncle's wedding. We can ransom her there but only if we get there quick enough..."

_Her name was Arya_, she remembered now when Sansa mentioned her little sister. Sansa had claimed that she reminded her of her little sister Arya. Only by looking at the young girl Myrna could not really see much in common besides dressing in breeches. This girl looks like she enjoys killing, similar to The Hound but in a smaller way. She could never find joy in killing, and only did when it was necessary. Not to brag about it, but she was more than often good at killing when she needed to. Myrna crossed her arms when she focused back on the situation. "So why did the Brotherhood just let you go with her? They obviously wanted her for the money," she asked Brenda.

Brenda smirked. "They didn't. I snuck us both out. They were heading for Riverrun but there were Lannister men spotted close to their camp. So while they were wasting their time hustling around to get ready to ambush those men I grabbed her for myself and _ran_ for it," she patted Arya on the back but the girl did not react.

"So you really are no longer part of the Brotherhood?" The Hound wanted to hear her say it.

"I'm here to help Myrna now. If I had known you were alive earlier..." she trailed off with a sad tone. "How are you, dear?" she asked kindly.

Myrna bit her lip. "There's time for that later. Do you know of any inn's that might be nearby?"

"Let's head northwest and make for Riverrun, then we'll head north towards The Twins. We should hit an inn rather soon on horseback," Brenda replied.

The Hound marched towards where he had tied up Stranger to a tree and Myrna became concerned. "We only have one horse..." she pointed out.

"You think we came all this way just by walking?" Brenda chuckled and she went back deeper into the woods leaving Myrna alone with Arya.

The girls awkwardly stared at each other in the dark and silence. Myrna scratched her scalp and looked around as she tried to think of something to say. When she looked to see where The Hound went she saw he was just finishing unwrapping the rope that he had tied around the tree to keep Stranger nearby. She wished he would hurry up, or that Brenda would. Being alone with Arya made her slightly uncomfortable.

Arya spoke up. "Why do you like him?" she asked harshly. "He's ugly and all he does is kill people," the girl sounded disgusted.

"_Like_ him?" Myrna asked quickly as she whipped her head back around.

The girl looked like she was studying Myrna. "You're alone with a man day and night, and you defend him to the death while everyone else wants him dead," Arya bickered. "If you're stupid enough to defend him then you're just as bad as him!"

"Now hold on!" Myrna yapped back at her and marched a few steps towards her. "I haven't done anything wrong! And I don't _like_ Sandor!" she declared and saw Arya was looking past her. When she turned around she saw The Hound was making his way towards them but was close enough to hear what Myrna said. The look on his face was nothing she'd ever seen. He tried to hide it with a hard frown but his brown eyes were wounded. Myrna's words had actually wounded the huge man.

Then behind Arya they heard another horse neighing and Brenda came into view mounted on her own horse; it was a beautiful brown and white spotted mare with a long white mane and tail. The smile on Brenda's face faded when she saw the three of them caught in the middle of something. "What's going on?" she asked in a concerned tone.

"I hope your pretty horse can hold three," The Hound spat nastily under his breath as he lead Stranger out of the pine woods and into the clearing so he could get on the road.

"No... Sandor, wait!" Myrna tried to make a recovery but he was not listening to anything that came out of her mouth and Stranger began trotting down the road. She stood there with her arms hanging at her side and she once again gripped her dagger tightly as she spun around and glared at Arya. "Look at what you did!"

Arya shook her head, her greasy brown hair flying in her face. "You're the one who said it!" she squawked.

"Okay, girls. Get on before we lose him," Brenda scolded.

Somehow the three of them had managed to squeeze onto Brenda's horse. They were lucky that Arya was small enough and Myrna wasn't that big either. It was Brenda who took up the most room for being a tall, curvy woman. Arya sat in front of Brenda and Myrna hugged Brenda from behind, careful not to cut her with her dagger in her hand. The mare began trotting across the clearing and made her way onto the road. They saw The Hound far down along the road, but he purposely went slow so he would not be out of view. _He knows he still needs the money..._ Myrna thought. Her heart began to sink the more she thought of what just happened.

"You two are lucky I no longer have my sand steed. Now_ she_ was a beauty, as red as the mountains back at home but to be honest she could barely hold me. We'd be in trouble if she was still alive!" Brenda chuckled and tried to lighten the mood but became quiet again when it was in vain. Behind them the night sky was beginning to turn into hues of violet and orange over the dark tree tops and birds were beginning to sing their songs. They had gone all night without a wink of sleep. Myrna hoped for an inn to come into sight soon. Occasionally she would peek around Brenda to see what was in front of them but all she saw was the back of the man that was ignoring her. Myrna knew she did not really mean what she had said, which only made it worse.

Brenda must have noticed what she was doing and brought it up. "So what exactly happened back there?" she inquired.

Myrna felt her face turn hot when she tried to think of what to say. Arya was able to get her word in first. "Myrna said she didn't like The Hound and he heard her say that. I didn't do _anything_," she defended herself.

"No, you made me say it!" Myrna shouted around Brenda.

"So you _do_ like that disgusting man," Arya hollered back. "Just admit it!"

Brenda groaned. "Okay, enough. I regret asking already," she sighed. The girls quieted down. Myrna stared at the ground that rolled by as they trotted along the road, the side of her head resting on Brenda's back. "Ah, here we go!" Brenda chirped and Myrna quickly peeked around her back again to see The Hound closing in on an inn down the road.

"Do you know that place?" Myrna asked.

"It so happens that I do," Brenda replied happily. "I'll be able to get us a room there. Now listen, you need to make up with your man because Spiceflower here can't hold all of us for the entire trip," she said as she patted her horse.

She sucked in air. "He is not my man!" Myrna blurted out and blushed.

"'A joke. Don't throw a hissy fit now, we made it..." Brenda smoothly replied as Spiceflower trotted down the dirt path towards the inn and stopped next to Stranger. The Hound had already hopped off and was tying Stranger to a post. Myrna watched him as he kept his back turned towards them. Arya leaped off first, landing softly on the ground and took a few steps back. Myrna swung her leg around behind her and stepped off with ease and Brenda did the same. "Normally people arrive at inns at night. Never had to buy a room first thing in the morning," Brenda chimed as she headed towards the inn doors. Myrna, The Hound and Arya followed her quietly. There was an uneasy tension between the three of them. It made Myrna want to shout.

When they entered through the wooden door she noticed the ceiling was quite low. The Hound had to duck his head when walked through the door. A couple of men were breaking their fast at some tables in the corner of the main room. Right when they walked in some stairs led up to the second floor. A man that sat with the others ended his conversation with the others and walked over to them with a smile. Brenda had some silver already in her hand and paid the man.

"The biggest room we have has only three beds. I hope that is fine," the man picked the coin out of her hand and his smile widened.

The Hound found an empty table against the wall and took a seat. "We'll have some bread and ale," he ordered.

"Aye," the man went into the kitchen and the others found a seat around The Hound. Arya sat farthest from him, Brenda across from him and Myrna next to him though she would not look at him and he at her. She put her dagger on her lap and rested her hands on the table politely. They remained quiet all the way until an elderly woman came shuffling out of the kitchen with a basket of bread and mugs for their ale. Right when The Hound's cup was filled he swallowed it all in one impressive swig. The wrinkled, frail woman stared at him disturbed and re-filled his mug right away before shuffling back into the kitchen.

"Thank you," Myrna politely called to her as she went to break off a piece of bread. Arya did the same but Brenda just sat there looking around with her big brown eyes, chin resting on the back of her hand. "Aren't you hungry?" Myrna asked before taking a bite.

"I'm more curious as to how you ended up like this. May I ask?" Brenda requested.

Myrna swallowed her bread and peeked at The Hound who sipped his ale. He acted as if he did not hear anything they said. "Sandor helped me out of the capital. We've been figuring out what to do ever since. That's it," Myrna shrugged and took another bite of bread.

"Did you see my sister there? Her name is Sansa," Arya forced a question out.

"I know who she is. She talked about you once," she saw Arya's blue eyes soften. "Sansa was fine the last time I saw her. I'm not sure what has become of King's Landing though," Myrna said honestly.

Brenda cut in. "King's Landing survived. There's no need to worry about your sister, sweet child..." she smiled.

The Hound finally found some words to say, but they left Myrna even more broken. "I regret not bringing the little bird along. She would have been more polite and a better sight to look at," The Hound sipped more ale.

"Pardon!?" Brenda's voice shrilled.

Myrna locked her eyes on her piece of bread on the table. She began to swallow often to stop herself from coming to tears. All she thought about was her back. Why did she ever show him the bad part of her? He was just another man. Of course he would prefer Sansa over her.

"You're just saying that because you heard Myrna say something mean," Arya blurted.

Brenda joined in with Arya. "You're lucky Myrna's brother isn't around. He'd take your head for saying something so cruel," she mumbled.

_No, not Nicholas... Don't bring him up..._ Myrna clenched her jaw and hoped it would pass over.

"Where was her older brother when Joffrey was playing with her at the capital? Hm?" The Hound asked crudely.

Brenda's mouth tightened. She looked away, not knowing what to say.

The Hound cackled. "It was me who bloody saved her arse. And you know what I get in return?" he looked at her for the first time since they argued.

This was enough. Myrna stood up swiftly, nearly knocking over the chair she was sitting on. She felt all their eyes on her as she ran up the stairs to the second floor of the inn. She hurried past some rooms that were loud and rowdy for a morning. For a second it sounded like a fight, and she paused to listen. It took her a moment to decide it was none of her business and she finally found the room with the three featherbeds the man had reserved for them. She went to the nearest one and sat on the edge facing towards a window, feeling the same way she felt in the pinewoods before The Hound spoke with her. There was a nearby nightstand and she threw her dagger onto it, not caring if it did any damage. The room was brightly lit since the window faced east and it would be difficult to try to take a nap that she clearly needed as the curtains were missing. Outside some children caught her attention. An older boy picked up a smaller girl that looked to be his sister and twirled her around.

Behind her she heard the door open slowly and then click close. In the corner of her eye she saw Brenda walk around the bed and found herself a spot to sit. They both looked out the window and watched the children quietly. "Reminds me of you and Nicholas," Brenda commented.

"He's gone," Myrna replied.

Brenda adjusted herself. "And how do you know that? No one saw him die..."

"Do you even know what happened?" Myrna asked rather harsh.

There was silence for awhile before Brenda's answer. "There was a fire. Your parents died in it. At least that's what the locals told me..."

Myrna narrowed her eyebrows. "What locals? Everyone was killed by The Mountain after the fire broke out," she corrected her.

"I meant... I stopped somewhere on the way back to Beaumont Hall. They told me. Was it Moat Cailin? Or perhaps Barrowton? I can't remember," she chirped quickly while crossing her legs and rubbing her thigh. "You know... you should really apologize to The Hound," she changed the subject and leaned in closer to Myrna.

Rubbing the back of her neck, Myrna sighed and looked down. "I suppose I was the rude one first," she admitted. "Even though I didn't really mean what I said. Arya was just making me so..." she ended up sighing more and stared up at the ceiling.

Brenda moved her hand and touched her back. It sent chills up her spine. Myrna straightened up and looked to Brenda with doe eyes. "I'm sure he did not mean to compare you to that girl he was talking about. Men make dumb mistakes all the time, they have no idea how to treat us women..." she snickered.

"You're probably right..." Myrna looked away again, still bothered by the hand on her back.

"It's not even that bad, Myrna..." Brenda said delicately as her hand brushed her back but the words sent her heart to drop down to the ground.

With a hard grip Myrna threw Brenda's hand off of her and stood up so quick she nearly lost her footing. She stared wildly at Brenda with her heart thumping hard in her chest. "How do you know!?"

Brenda looked like she had frozen. Her eyes stared back with extreme wariness. She was being cautious with her next words. "Know what, sweetling?" she remained calm.

"You know what I'm talking about," Myrna hissed. "Who are you even!?"

She laughed. "I'm _Brenda_, silly. You know, I think you're tired. Why don't you-"

The door opened once more and Arya entered halfway but stopped walking when she saw Myrna standing there devastated. Behind her The Hound stood and he peeked in to see what Arya was looking at. Myrna's knees trembled and she didn't know what to do with her hands. Had she made some sort of misunderstanding? She shifted where she stood, putting her weight back and forth between each leg. Brenda stood up slowly and made her way towards Arya and The Hound, pushing them back. Myrna heard her whisper about letting her sleep and soon the three of them had left her alone. Behind her was the second bed and she plopped herself onto it. Perhaps she was overtired, but she feared her dreams. Just a little nap was all she needed. Myrna closed her eyes and tried to dream of home, but instead all she felt in her dream were familiar strong arms that wrapped around her, and a broad chest pushed against her back. It was something that ended up more comforting than the thought of home, but it also was out of reach.


	7. Chapter 7

Everything was still as she rested on her side with her eyes shut. Myrna was aware that she was dreaming, yet the touch from the person behind her felt incredibly real. What she wanted was to never disturb the comfort she felt at that moment, but nothing so gentle ever lasted for her. Myrna trembled as she felt like she was sinking and the comforting presence soon vanished and was replaced with a malicious one. Smoke and flames suffocated her. A man cried out, but the sound came from every direction and surrounded her. Beads of sweat dripped down her face and she found herself cowering in a corner of a burning room. There was nowhere to run. When she opened her mouth to scream nothing would come out. Her muscles would not listen to her. Myrna was frozen like a trapped animal and she squeezed her eyes shut. _It'll be over..._ she told herself. _It'll be over... _

Then she opened her eyes and she was on her bed that she had fallen asleep on, but... the smoke was still there. Her pillow was damp from her sweat and her vision was impaired by a heavy mist of gray smoke swirling through the room. Screams came from down the hall, but they were different screams from the ones she heard in her dream. The door was blocked by giant orange flames dancing as it entered her room, nearing her inch by inch. That was when she let out a piercing scream herself, finally finding her voice. Myrna flew off the edge of the bed and banged her head against the wooden floor. Crying out, she rubbed her head and attempted to stand up but too much smoke filled her lungs. Myrna hacked and hacked, going back down to the floor and surveyed the room. Her heart pounded and she panicked. This was the last thing she wanted to relive. Trembling, she covered her nose and mouth to try to stop from breathing in more smoke and saw her only way out was the window she looked out of earlier.

She struggled as she crawled to the window with one hand, and when she was underneath it she sat up on her knees and peered out. Panic stricken people were running around. Some were running away and some stayed and cried out at the burning inn. With shaking hands Myrna searched for the lock along the chipped windowframe and found it at the very top of the window which she had to stand for. Coughing, Myrna stood straight up and pulled on the lock. Right afterwards she smacked the wooden frame repeatedly with an open palm.

"Please open!" Myrna cried out, and had to stop trying to open the window so she could kneel back down and catch her breath. Her cough was so hard it felt like her belly was about to go up her throat.

Once again she stood up and now punched the window with a fist and on her third punch the window flew open. Myrna wanted to cry from relief. Smoke flew out the window and into the air outside. She leaned out to see how far the drop was. It was far, and there was a good chance of breaking a bone but she did not care. Myrna knew it would be better than experiencing another burn. She sat down on the edge while swinging her legs over and was about to drop off until she realized she was missing something.

"My dagger..." she realized, patting herself.

She looked back into the room with her nose buried into her arm. It was resting on the nightstand next to the bed she was sleeping on two minutes ago. The bed was now completely engulfed by the flames and was an inch away from the nightstand. Myrna swung her legs back into the room and sprinted towards the nightstand, crying out in desperation. The nightstand caught fire with her dagger on it. When she was in front of it she did not know what to do. She pulled back her hair and looked around to see if there was anything to could push the dagger off the nightstand with but there was nothing. Myrna had no choice.

Myrna pulled her hand into her sleeve and braced herself. Holding her breath, she took her hand that was bundled in her sleeve and quickly picked up the dagger and dropped it on the ground as her sleeve caught fire. Myrna yowled and cried, swinging her arm around to try to extinguish the small flame. She had no choice but to take off her tunic. With one hand she struggled to remove her tunic, but she managed and threw it away from her. Myrna held her hand while sobbing and made herself stomp on the burning sleeve, but she had taken in so much smoke she had another fit and fell to the ground. Her face was wet and her hair was beginning to stick to her face as she grabbed her tunic and her dagger that rested next to her. Inside she felt like she was burning like the flames around her. Her muscles, her lungs, her eyes, they all felt they had been burning too. The flame crept up closer and she forced herself with every fiber of strength left to crawl back to the window.

Once again she threw her legs out and sat on the edge while coughing the entire time. The outside air was pleasantly cool which gave her goosebumps all over her exposed pale skin. It did not even occur to Myrna that anyone who stood below her saw her half nude. When she peered down she felt more anxiety bundle up within her. Myrna let go of her dagger and tunic, watching them fall all the way down to the dirt below. She adjusted herself and slid off the edge inch by inch. If only her hand had not been damaged, then she could have hung from the window and then let go to lessen the damage. Myrna held her breath and closed her eyes then pushed herself off with her heels. Her dark, damp curls flew above her and she felt the impact of the ground quicker than she thought. It felt like something had slapped her whole body at once. _Am I okay? Am I dead?_ Questions ran through her mind as she felt like she was waking up from another dream.

Opening her eyes, she saw a lady slowly make her way towards Myrna, picking up her stained kitchen dress. It was the one who had served them bread and ale earlier. Myrna tried to move, but she could not. She was thankful for landing on her back so at least no one could see the scars she received from her other similar experience. This was no dream, she knew now. The pain was real. Then she realized she was alone and her heart sunk. "Sandor... Brenda... Arya... where...?" she asked between breathes as she somehow managed to pushed herself up with her good hand while grunting. Had she left them behind without realizing? The elderly lady knelt down while sobbing when she finally reached Myrna and gathered her tunic. Myrna felt the tunic go over her head and she allowed the lady to help her dress.

"Oh, thank the Gods someone up there made it..." she wailed and sobbed more.

"_Where_ are the others?" Myrna found more strength to put in her voice. She was breathing heavy and trembling. They were fine, right? They had to be.

The lady shook her head. "Oh, what am I going to do..." she struggled to stand again but her old knees were too weak. She put her face in her hands and her wails became louder.

"I'm... I'm going to go find help," Myrna put a hand on the lady's shoulder and found her feet shakily. When she put weight on her right foot she winced. _Damn... it hurts so bad._ She felt something trickle down her chin so she wiped it off with the back of her wrist and saw blood smeared on her skin. Inside her cheek hurt, and she spat out more blood. After giving herself some time to see how she was after the fall Myrna searched the dirt for her dagger and saw it lying a few feet away. She went to pick it up slowly and grimaced at it when she held it in her good hand. The inscribed tree was in the middle of her reflection. Her eyes were red from the smoke, and her chin matched as blood was smeared all over.

First she had speak with more people to see what really happened. She began walking around the inn at a slow pace to see what was happening in front, and the wails from the old lady were not so loud anymore. Myrna limped as she kept her distance from the burning inn and walked around the corner to see a few more people loitering. None of them were her companions.

Nearby was a stocky man who stood there squinting at the inn. When he noticed her closing in on him he looked at her in awe. "Seven hells! Were ye in there!?" he shouted.

Nodding, she asked a question. "Did anyone else make it out?" she hoped.

"I saw the smoke while coming down the road and went to see what happened. I wasn't ever in there," he eyed her hand. "Do ye need help bandaging that?"

Myrna was becoming frightened. Had they not made it out? Were they still in there? She gave no answer to his question and spaced out. Her dream haunted her again. The blackened, blistered bodies were lying inside her burning manor. Voices cried out in her head, familiar voices she had grown up with. They were people she could have saved if only she had been on time. "I need to go back in there..." she whimpered.

"Ain't no way I'm letting ye back in that fire pit!" the man hollered at her when she started limping towards the flaming front door. He pulled her shoulder but she pulled back harder and escaped his grip. The man came at her again and forced her down, and she kicked and screamed and shouted. The other people who were around stared at her. In her mind she was a strong young woman, but truly she wasn't. Every time she lost someone she became weaker. In such a short amount of time she had depended on The Hound to stay there by her and now suddenly he was gone along with Brenda and Arya. There was no point anymore. Her muscles relaxed and now she lied on the grass sniffling. The man ran his fingers through her curls and told her it would be alright, but it would not.

The man gasped and Myrna heard him being lifted off the ground and thrown away. Before she could even turn to look at what happened arms wrapped around her, a feeling she had recently experienced overwhelmed her for a second, and helped her sit up. Dirty, calloused fingers grabbed her chin tightly to make her look up at his face.

"You're... you're alright..." The Hound's voice rasped. He seemed to be talking more to himself than her.

Myrna felt herself smile weakly. "You're alive," she said back to him.

Sweat dripped off his forehead and he almost seemed afraid to look up. The inn was making a noise that sounded like huge tree branches cracking and soon it Myrna knew it would collapse from the flames eating away at what held it up. Before she knew it she was up in the air in his arms and the heat from the inn drew farther away as he marched towards the road hastily. The man that had been thrown away crawled backwards in fear when he saw The Hound walk past him. She saw The Hound make a threatening glance at the man for a few seconds. _Jealous like a dog_, she looked down at her injured hand and let her hair cover her face so he would not see her small grin.

Arya and Brenda were next to Spiceflower and Stranger. Everyone looked like they had just came back from a trip. Myrna wondered where they went and felt out of place for thinking about them just leaving her alone without a word. Why would they leave her all by herself? Brenda came up to them first, with tears welling in her sad brown eyes. "Oh, look at you..." she reached for Myrna's burned hand and Myrna pulled it away. She remembered what had happened between the two of them in the morning and still felt troubled by it. The Hound put her down gently on her feet, but held onto her shoulder when he saw she could only stand on one foot.

"This is nothing," she said awkwardly, knowing she must look horrible. "Where did you guys go? Why did you just leave me!?" Myrna found herself becoming angry at them.

"Someone took Spiceflower," Brenda informed her while fixing Myrna's hair and taking note of the damage on her clothing and the blood smeared on her face. "I asked The Hound and Arya to come with. But we just found her abandoned down the road and when we started our way back..."

Arya stepped in. "This is no coincidence. Someone wanted Myrna dead," her glassy blue eyes looked at her with no emotion.

"The Brotherhood-" The Hound began to accuse with his grip tightening on her shoulder.

Brenda cut him off. "No. They were going the opposite direction and they had no intention of bothering you again. They want your brother more than anyone else and it's the Lannister party they have their eyes on," she explained.

All of them quieted down as they tried to think of anyone else that could be to blame.

"It may be a coincidence..." Myrna began. "...but on my way to the room this morning I heard a fight going on in a room. Perhaps they knocked over a candle or something?"

The Hound shook his head, sweat still covered his forehead and made his burn glisten red. "Why would there be a candle lit during the day? And her damn horse was let loose on purpose, the rope was cut through..." he rasped. "They know you're traveling with me. Honestly, it's me they want. There is probably coin on my head for telling the king to fuck off," he scoffed.

"You say that as if you're proud people want to kill you," Arya sounded disgusted.

The Hound glared at her. "I never saw you tell the king to fuck off," he barked at her.

"I held a sword to his throat! I never even seen you do anything close to that to Joffrey!" she replied quickly.

He took a couple steps toward Arya in a threatening way leaving Myrna alone but Myrna hopped towards him to stop them from fighting. With her good hand she pushed him back. "Enough," she commanded and turned around to face Arya as well. "Both of you!"

Brenda grabbed Arya, who now sulked, by the shoulder and led her to Spiceflower. "We camp after we find the Red Fork. If there _is_ someone after one of us we need to keep moving and try to lose them," and soon they were mounted and departed from the burning inn.

Myrna grabbed The Hound around his waist with her good hand and held the other slightly above her lap so it would not touch anything. Her hand was not as bad as she thought. Some skin was peeling and blistered, but nothing too deep. It would heal within a few weeks if properly taken care of. However, her foot bothered her if she would allow it to swing while riding on Stranger. When she looked back she saw the smoke was thick and tall, reaching the clouds up in the sky. It was no wonder it attracted a few people who happened to be strolling by. Like anything, though, it grew smaller as they slowly made their way down the dirt road.

Myrna felt she had somehow made up with The Hound. Once again she was mounted on Stranger with him just as they were used to traveling. Still, she found herself trying to find the right words to say to him. When she looked at his face she saw dark circles under his eyes. It had been a long time since he slept, she realized. The Hound noticed.

"A pretty view for you," he commented.

Myrna disregarded that. "You're tired," she told him. Her eyes would occasionally wander off to the scars he wore on his face. It was not something she could help, nor anyone. Though it was a face she saw every day since they left the capital and for her it was becoming _normal_. True, it was not pleasing but she did not shy away from it either. Myrna wondered what he honestly thought about her back when she revealed it to him.

"I'm fine..." he stared down the road above her and with small glances back down at her saw she was still looking up at him. "Does my face fascinate you so much?"

She blinked and looked away. "I didn't realize..." she began mumbling. "I'm sorry," she apologized but it was much deeper than The Hound knew.

"What are you sorry for?" he asked in a mocking tone.

"Everything," Myrna said softly.

He was quiet. Stranger made soft grunting noises as he trotted behind Spiceflower. "You take your apology back and keep quiet. I'm at least half at fault for everything that has happened. I never should have left you alone at that inn. That was my damn, bloody fault and now you're wounded 'cause of it..." his usual gruff voice became slightly softer. Myrna began to understand that when he didn't want other people to hear something he told Myrna he would change his voice to that rough whisper.

"It's nothing new," she remarked as she peered down at the burned flesh on her hand.

The Hound also looked at her hand. "It could have been worse. Be glad that's all that happened..." he let go of one of the reins and reached behind his back to retrieve a sack he kept near him. Myrna watched as he searched in there to find something, and saw him pull out a handkerchief. He began wiping away the blood on her face and she blinked with surprise but did not move. The look in his eyes made her feel uneasy, as if he were experiencing nostalgia and she was not really there in front of him but perhaps someone else. Despite that, Myrna felt her stomach flutter.

"Thank you..." she politely said as he put away the handkerchief silently. "I... didn't mean what I said earlier," Myrna couldn't help but blurt out. The Hound nodded solemnly, and that was that.

Secretly she hoped that he would apologize for what he said back at the inn but he never did. The Hound was a brutally honest man, and Sansa _was_ prettier than Myrna with her perfect fair skin and wavy red hair and brilliant green eyes that allured anyone speaking with her. It hurt, but she accepted that. Perhaps she was overthinking everything. Maybe it was just some offhand words from built up anger and he does not even remember saying anything.

The outskirts of Riverrun greeted them. The first village they saw was about a mile away. Soon they would run into the Red Fork, and finally the four of them could find a spot to rest. "Do you think Riverrun has a maester that can see me?" Myrna asked The Hound.

"Someone ought to have something for your hand," he replied.

Spiceflower slowed down and Myrna came face to face with Brenda and Arya, though she was slightly higher up than them. "I'm going to have to leave Arya with you two for now. I can get some ointment for your hand and some more supplies. Once you reach the water make camp, I'll find you..." Brenda hollered as she made Spiceflower come to a stop and The Hound pulled hard on Stranger's rein's to make him stop as well.

"Why can't we come with?" Myrna asked as she watched Arya jump off Spiceflower and pout as she made her way towards Stranger.

Brenda kicked Spiceflower on the side and she smiled at them. "I have a friend in these parts but he's shy. You want to watch me work?" she chuckled as she kicked Spiceflower again and flew down the dirt road and made her way towards the village.

"She's strange," Arya commented as she stood there watching Brenda grow smaller.

The Hound sighed heavily. "Come on, we don't have all day," he grunted as he leaned over to reach down at the young girl, the leather on his armor scrunching. Arya wrinkled her nose but she grabbed onto his hand despite the hatred she had for the man. The Hound threw Arya onto Myrna's lap unexpectedly, making her yelp from her pained knee, and Myrna wrapped the arm with her good hand around the girl's waist. Before Stranger began trotting again The Hound was hugging Myrna more tightly now that she could not hang on to him. She could feel herself blushing and hoped the girl wouldn't turn around to face her anytime soon.

They passed up the village that Brenda entered moments ago and kept moving northwest. Myrna strained her eyes and kept her eyes peeled for any water ahead. They all needed rest, and now with Arya on her lap she was becoming irritated. Stranger moved slower now, so they would not reach the Red Fork as soon as they would have earlier. Myrna felt bad for the horse despite its ill nature.

"Is there anyone who hates you, Myrna?" Arya asked suddenly.

Myrna opened her mouth to answer but she had none. "Well... why do you ask?"

"Someone wanted you to burn in there. They purposely lead us away and set that inn on fire with you inside. Are you sure there is no one after you?" the young girl elaborated.

"Most people I know are dead," Myrna explained.

Arya was quiet for only a minute before continuing. "The Mountain is mad at your brother, or at least that's what Beric said. Maybe it's him?"

The Hound cackled bitterly. "My brother would rather kill all of us than just one. He would not have bothered to draw us away from Myrna. Besides, he would have done the killing himself instead of letting some house fire do it..."

A sudden realization made Myrna hold her breath. Perhaps there was someone after her, but she could not find it in herself to believe it. Over the years she had assumed him dead. The last time she had seen him was when The Mountain had knighted him and helped ruin their lives. If he were somehow alive... why would he show up now after all these years? Why did he try to kill her back there?

"We need to be careful from now on," Myrna said sternly.

Arya watched Myrna with curious eyes. "Did you think of something?"

Myrna swallowed. "I'm not the only one with an angry brother..."


	8. Chapter 8

The Red Fork rumbled loudly as the water rushed with great speed along the banks. Their camp was small but it was comfortable. They had managed to catch a rabbit for the three of them to share, but Myrna could not help but stop eating to look down the road that led them to this spot next to the Red Fork. It was difficult to see in the night, but that did not stop her from checking. Brenda was taking a long time and she wondered if she would take all night to get back. They were stuck here until Brenda returned with what she needed to heal her hand. When they first arrived Myrna crouched down next to the Red Fork and washed her hand off as gently as she could, but that was all she could do. Myrna needed ointments, bandages... the pain was slowly increasing. The exposed flesh was beginning to ooze and her hand looked slightly swollen. Thinking about the possibility of an infection in her hand bothered her and that led her to looking at the road constantly. The Hound must have noticed her anxiety.

"Relax," he gave a brief reassurance to her but the tone in his voice was anything but comforting.

Myrna waved her ugly hand at him. "This is going to kill me if it's not taken care of!" she exaggerated.

"You've been through worse," The Hound gave her a stare that felt like it went through her. Myrna nearly shuddered but instead just stared back down at her hand. She was done with her rabbit and put it down next to her. Looking at her hand made her lose her appetite.

She would have thanked The Hound for being subtle as she did not want anyone else to know. When she looked at Arya she saw she was laying on her side, head resting on her arm and just stared at the small fire she built for them. It seemed she heard nothing around her. Myrna wondered if she needed someone to talk to.

"Get some sleep. I'll have first watch," The Hound told Myrna.

She shook her head. "Brenda should be here soon and I had a nap earlier," she thought about her rude awakening from that nap. "You get some rest. I'll wake you when she arrives," she offered and The Hound silently agreed. He rested himself down on his back, resting his hands on his belly. _He never takes off that armor_, she thought as she watched him for a moment. Immediately she heard his snoring which was not surprising from how long he had been awake.

"You're giving him that look again," Arya softly spoke up when she knew The Hound fell asleep.

While ignoring the comment, Myrna thought of something to change the subject. "How did you end up like this?" she asked the young girl.

Arya sat up and had a far off look in her eyes. "After Joffrey killed my father a man from the Night's Watch took me away from King's Landing. Tried to save me... until some Lannister men killed him and sent me off to Harrenhal..."

"Harrenhal? Isn't that place haunted?" Myrna felt goosebumps on her arms.

The girl looked slightly baffled at that comment. "It's old and dirty. That's about it," she quieted down and gave a foul look at the sleeping Hound. "His brother almost killed my friend at Harrenhal..."

Myrna blinked. Had this girl really ran into The Mountain? She double checked to make sure The Hound was asleep. Any talk of his brother would rile him up and she did not want to make him angry at her again. "How do you know The Mountain?" she asked in a low voice.

"He and his men tortured people there. I saw a lot of people die because of The Mountain. Isn't that something we have in common?" Arya was beginning to become smart with her mouth. The girl raised an eyebrow at Myrna and seemed to enjoy surprising her.

"Beric doesn't know _anything_," Myrna sneered as she went to look again down the road, but now she felt a sudden sadness rush over her.

Arya spoke up again after a moment. She was curious. "So what he said wasn't the truth?"

"About my town being burned to dust and my parents perishing in it? Yes. Yes, that's true. But he doesn't know how it happened. He wasn't there. _I_ was there. _I_ saw my parents burn to death and _I _was the one who..." Myrna began breathing heavy and her voice was croaking. She stopped herself before she said it aloud. The tightness in her back reminded her every time she moved of what happened inside her burning manor. When she looked at Arya she saw pity in the girl's blue eyes.

They remained quiet for awhile and watched the fire slowly become dimmer. Crickets sang around them and Arya's eyes were becoming heavy. A noise from down the road caught the attention from both Myrna and Arya and the girl looked awake again. Myrna exhaled, finding relief that Brenda was finally making her way back. Her hand was desperate for treatment. With her good hand she pushed herself up and when she stood straight she stretched but was careful with her injured ankle. "I told Sandor I would wake him up when she arrived," Myrna said aloud, mostly to herself, but Arya also stood up and seemed wary.

"That's not just one horse..." she pointed down the dark road.

When Myrna looked back again she saw Arya was right. Behind the one horse Myrna saw in the distance there was more. A lot more. Panic struck through her and she ordered Arya to put the fire out and grab as much as she could. Myrna limped towards the sleeping Hound and shook the large man's shoulders. He was incredibly heavy and it took every muscle in her to shake him. "Sandor! We have to hide! People are coming!" she harshly whispered. Then he finally blinked his eyes open.

"What do you want, woman?" he groggily asked and let out a loud yawn.

Myrna grabbed his arm and tried to pull him up but he pulled back harder and it led Myrna to fall onto his lap. What she felt made her face turn pink. She slapped his face and squealed as she rolled off. Myrna landed funny on her ankle and sat there holding it, biting her lip.

The Hound rubbed the cheek she slapped and he clenched his teeth. "Don't you know about men when they wake up!?" he muttered as he stood up to fix himself.

She managed to look back at him with her cheeks still flushed. "There are people coming!" she told him again, and attempted to stand up but couldn't. Myrna cursed.

Once he recognized the sound of hooves thundering towards them he gave her a concerned look. Quickly he went to pick her up with one arm and they made their way to Stranger. Arya was already by the horse, hands full of what little they had on them. Sandor roughly grabbed everything from the girl's hands and threw them on Stranger's saddle but instead of mounting he grabbed the reins and lead Stranger behind some trees along the bank of the river. Immediately after The Hound placed Myrna behind a shrub and then he pushed his back against the biggest tree he could find. Arya joined Myrna and crouched behind some shrubs.

Numerous thuds became louder as the horses galloped closer. Soon they were able to hear voices. Myrna peeked around the shrub to see if she could recognize any faces, but nearly all the men were wearing helms plus the night clouded them in a dark blanket. "That last village didn't have much," one loudly complained.

Myrna felt her stomach drop. Did they raid the village Brenda stopped at? She looked towards The Hound and saw him already looking at her with perplexed eyes. He was thinking the same thing, too. Arya looked like she was about to say something but Myrna put her good index finger up to her mouth to signal to remain quiet. They can't say anything for sure yet.

"We're not doing this for treasures!" the one leading them snapped back as he came to a halt near them. The rest stopped. Myrna and Arya were as still as calm water. She saw The Hound holding his breath. There was no way they could take on all those knights. Why did they stop, though? Did they know they were hiding by the river? Was Brenda caught and did she tell them where they planned to meet up? The man in front of the party turned his horse around to face the man. "There is a man threatening Ser Gregor Clegane. We need to catch this man or it will be _us _that will be flayed. Now are you sorry son's of whores absolutely sure you saw no man that matched the description in the past few villages!?"

Silence was the answer.

"A bloody Northerner we're looking for! It should not be this difficult. His name is Nicholas Beaumont!" he sharply broke the silence. Myrna felt the hairs on her arm stand straight up. "Fair skin, black of hair, and he wears the sigil of an oak tree. It was you, Willem, who claimed to have seen him in these parts, no?"

A nervous knight who was closest to the head of the party nodded. "Yes, ser..."

"Did you lie?" the man asked another question.

"N-No, ser. Never, ser," Willem the knight replied back like a small boy.

"'Cause it won't be me you'll have to speak with if you go back to Harrenhal empty-handed. It will be The Mountain!" he threatened and he turned his horse back around.

Willem sounded like he was going to cry. "Yes, ser. Of c-course, ser!" he shouted back in reply and all the horses began galloping down the road once more towards their next destination. Another poor village was to be ruined because of these men.

Once they were completely out of sight the three of them crawled out of their hiding places. The Hound kept his hand on the hilt of his sword as he crept closer to the road to see if everything was truly clear. Meanwhile Myrna stared at the ground and squeezed the hilt of her dagger. What does this mean? What should she do? She heard The Hound return to them and saw Arya's face appear in front of her.

"Your brother..." Arya looked up at her.

The Hound kept his mouth shut and just stared at Myrna with a hard look. The way he pressed his lips together made it seem he wanted to say something but held it back. The Mountain was mentioned as well, Myrna remembered. It appeared that he truly was hunting Nicholas still.

"Maybe we should visit Harrenhal..." Myrna threw an idea at them which led to Arya's face twisting into an angry expression. "_After_ The Twins..." she added, now crossing her arms.

After a short moment The Hound softly shook his head. "There's nothing we could do about my brother when he has all those bloody men around him," he rasped but he sounded slightly disappointed. "Besides, there are plenty of miles between my brother and yours. I wouldn't worry about your precious brother," he mocked and turned around to look at the road again. That led to her biting her lower lip.

"Don't call him that," Myrna snapped and watched The Hound whip his head back towards her direction. "I want him dead just as I want your brother dead! And I'll kill them _myself_," she snarled. He gaped at her, looking her up and down as if she did not seem real to him. Myrna wanted to shout more at him, but could not find the words. All the shapes that she would see in her dark dreams were dancing in her mind in that moment, as they always did whenever Nicholas and The Mountain were mentioned.

"Why?" Arya asked in a surprisingly mild tone.

Before Myrna could respond she saw something in the corner of her eye. From the same direction the party of knights came another traveler was slowly making their way towards them. The brown and white spotted horse proved it truly was Brenda this time, and she had survived. Myrna began limping towards the road to welcome Brenda, and to ignore Arya's question at the same time. Brenda picked up speed and in no time had finally arrived.

"I'm not done talking to you!" Arya had followed Myrna closely and tugged on Myrna's tunic as Brenda jumped off Spiceflower with a grin on her face. The smile faded when Arya yelled, "Why do you want to kill your brother!?"

In her hand Brenda held a sack that Myrna assumed held the medicine she needed for her burned hand that she had nearly forgotten about ever since the knights disrupted them. It fell to the ground with a thud and Brenda grabbed Myrna's shoulders. Myrna shuddered. "You're not talking about Nicholas, are you?" Brenda asked harshly but Myrna could tell there was hurt in her big brown eyes. "What's going on?" she looked to Arya but still had a hard grip on Myrna. The Hound moved quick for his size and pushed Brenda off of Myrna roughly. The Dornish woman fell on her rear with a cry and cursed at him. "Fucking hells! What is with you people!?" she screamed.

"I don't know what the hell is going on, either..." The Hound growled as he put himself between Brenda and her. "But I know enough that you have no right to touch her or yell at her for wanting your _lover_ dead. Seven hells, he was knighted by my brother for crying out loud!" he warned her.

Brenda began breathing heavier and now spoke to Myrna. "Explain yourself, _sweetling_... Why on earth do you want Nicholas dead?" her voice shook.

All their eyes were on her now, including The Hound's as he turned around to face her. She felt like she was cornered despite being in the open area. "My parents are dead because of him..." Myrna looked off to the side.

"Because of _The Mountain_," Brenda thought she was correcting her and it made Myrna furious.

"Oh, I'm sorry! Were you there too!? Did you hear the way my mother screamed, or see the way Nicholas just stared at my parents as they turned to ash!?" Myrna hollered down at her. _But he was also crying..._ she remembered but left that part out. "It's just as I said. _My brother_. Everyone blamed The Mountain for everything but it was Nicholas who started it! The only reason I want to go to Harrenhal is so I can stop The Mountain from taking away my vengeance! I don't know why he's after Nicholas and me, but I can't let him have my brother..." she went on and saw Brenda's lip quiver. Brenda remained sitting on the dirt road and began to whimper as she put her hand up to her chest. There was no way Myrna could stand to stay around and listen to Brenda wail over the truth about Nicholas. Turning around, she marched back towards the bank of the Red Fork despite the terrible pain in her ankle every time she placed it down. Myrna heard someone follow her. The sound of armor plates clamoring let Myrna know it was The Hound without having to look behind her. A tight grip on her shoulder stopped her from walking and when she looked up she saw slick red flesh but averted her eyes. She stared at his chest plate instead. "Your brother is innocent for once. You happy?" she muttered under her breath. His grip tightened on her shoulder and it made her wince.

"That was uncalled for," he spat back. Myrna felt drops of saliva hit her face. He was so close to her face she could feel warm puffs of air from his mouth.

Now she looked up to meet his gaze. "Sorry," she flatly apologized.

He shook his head. "I could care less about my brother's fucking innocence, not that he has any. I'm talking about what you did there with the whore," he rasped. "We have no fucking coin and that whore wailing on the road is all we got! Now she's probably going to fucking leave 'cause of you," he looked off to the side and inhaled sharply.

"Is that all you care about? Money?" Myrna's voice shook angrily. "Or didn't you get a chance to fuck her yet?" she grabbed his hand and threw it off of her then pushed his chest hard. He stumbled back a few steps and gawked at her.

"Since when do you care who I fuck!?" he hollered back with a wild look in his eye.

Myrna saw Arya standing behind him and she watched them awkwardly. "'Cause she likes you," Arya said with a shrug. Myrna felt her face turn hot and The Hound stared at the girl confused but she changed the subject quickly. "In case you forgot, we have my uncle's wedding to attend. Make Brenda stop crying," she ordered them and turned around to go back to her. Myrna kept her head down and followed Arya closely to avoid The Hound. She hoped her hair hid her blush and now was faced with another challenge. Brenda's eyes were red and she still sat on the ground sobbing. When she noticed Myrna making her way towards her she saw Brenda pick up the sack she had brought with her and threw it in front of Myrna's feet.

"There. That's what you want, right? Now leave me!" she commanded between tears.

Myrna walked around the bag slowly and towered over Brenda. The Dornish woman dried off her brown cheeks and peered up at Myrna with angry eyes. "I'm not going to apologize," Myrna began. "Nicholas fucked up my whole life whether you want to believe it or not. Maybe one day you can get your answers from him..." Myrna went down on her knees and grabbed Brenda's calloused, tanned hand with her injured one, ignoring the pain. "_We_ can get answers from him," Myrna rephrased herself. Brenda's sobs slowed down to sniffles as she glanced down at their hands. For a second Myrna thought her attempt was all in vain, but Brenda lifted her chin and softly looked at Myrna's face. Brenda nodded without saying anything, and they both stood up.

Brenda wiped her face with her forearm and sighed as she pointed at Myrna's hand. "Let's finally fix that up, shall we?" she tried to sound like her cheerful self but it came out apathetic.

That last the last time Myrna heard Brenda speak that evening. They sat facing each other on the grass near the dead fire Arya had built earlier. The Hound and Arya were unpacking what little they had and Stranger was tied to a closer tree. The way Brenda cleaned out her burned hand reminded her of when her friend Desmond treated her back all those years ago. This was much smaller but yet the pain was no less. Myrna was relieved when it was nearly over and Brenda gently wrapped her hand in pieces of cloth. She examined her hand when it was done and Brenda began wrapping her ankle that she injured from the jump. Afterwards when Brenda was finished with her ankle she silently went to sit by herself away from them. Myrna's dagger was placed next to her and she looked at it and then at The Hound. She decided it was for the best.

Myrna held her dagger in her good hand and approached The Hound. The pain was greatly alleviated in her ankle thanks to it being wrapped up now. She quietly sat next to him and he glued his eyes to her. "May I ask a favor?" Myrna kept her head down.

"You can't even look at me," he grumbled deeply.

Sighing, she lifted her chin and hoped not to blush. Why was she suddenly so bashful around him? "Take care of this," she handed him her dagger and he grabbed it from her eagerly. He ran his finger down the flat of the blade and examined it closely. _It's like a new toy for him_, Myrna smiled as she watched him. "I obviously can't use it for awhile," she showed off her hand and he slightly smirked back at her.

His small smile faded and his eyes wandered around the small camp. "Is there truth to what the she-wolf said earlier?" The Hound flatly asked Myrna.

Myrna blushed just as she did when Arya embarrassed her earlier. "If... if we don't hurry we'll miss the wedding, yes..." Myrna stuttered and looked down to her lap letting her dark curls hide her face.

"Not that," he rasped as he moved in closer to her. "You fancy me? I could use a woman..." she felt his breath on her neck. His hand grabbed her chin and he forced her to look at him and their noses nearly touched. Myrna resisted but stared at his mouth. She shook and her cheeks were warm. Then The Hound made a sound what sounded like a deep sigh and his grip loosened. "You're just like the little bird after all. Bloody shame," he murmured and took back his hand and moved away from her. Myrna wanted to say she wasn't like Sansa but she remained quiet. The Hound went back to looking at her blade while brooding. She wanted to comfort him somehow but felt stuck.

Arya neared them. "I'm going to find some more fire wood," she told them.

Myrna took one more glance at The Hound and stood up. "I'll come with. It's dark out," she put a hand on Arya's back and they walked out of the camp and into a deeper part of the forest but stayed near the Red Fork. Arya began picking up the biggest twigs she saw lying on the grass and had a small bundle in her arms in a matter of minutes. Myrna stood there awkwardly and still examined her hand. She wondered if she would ever get used to it.

"How much longer 'til were at the Twins?" Arya asked as she bent over to swipe up another decent twig.

Myrna shrugged. "I don't really know. A few days perhaps," She watched Arya frown at that. Maybe somehow she could cheer the girl up. "How are you, Arya?" Myrna asked.

"What do you mean?" Arya narrowed her eyes at Myrna.

She took a few steps closer to the girl and made herself smile. "It's been rough lately. Just wondering how you're holding up..."

"I just want Brenda to keep leading us to the Twins. It's stupid the way she cried over your brother. She hasn't seen him in years," she calmly replied while adjusting the bundle of twigs in her arms. Arya looked up at Myrna and was about to keep talking but her eyes caught onto something behind Myrna. The twigs fell to the ground.

Myrna knew by the look on the girls face it wasn't good. Slowly she turned around and froze. _No..._ she thought. _There is no way._

"You're... You're supposed to be in Harrenhal," Myrna backed up slowly.

Gregor Clegane eyed her up as he stood within the shadows. A sickly smile appeared on his face. "My bride. My search ended up sweeter than I thought it would," his voice boomed, deeper than The Hound's.

"Arya, run!" Myrna commanded sharply as she whipped her head back to face the girl. Arya shook her head and grabbed Myrna's arm.

"_Come with me!_" she whispered with her blue eyes filled with worry.

Myrna brushed her off and pushed her away. "NOW!" she ordered again, louder this time. This time Arya listened and Myrna watched the girl disappear into the darkness between the pine trees and heard Gregor rumble a short laugh. Myrna faced him once more and her heart pounded inside her chest as he crept closer. It did not help when she remembered that she gave her dagger to The Hound before leaving with Arya. "Just you wait. Sandor will be here and he'll kill you!" Myrna tried to be brave but only kept taking a step back every time The Mountain took a step towards her. _There's no way I can outrun him_, Myrna thought. Her ankle felt better but it was still injured. The Mountain picked up his pace while Myrna did not. She was helpless. Soon he stood over her and she had to stretch her neck to see his face. Myrna remembered the way he stood tall over her when she was young, when he had chained up Nicholas to take him away. The bravery she had when she was young was not with her at that moment. What she did _not_ remember was the pain of his fist making impact with her skull.


	9. Chapter 9

A throbbing ache in her head dulled all her senses. It were as if she had been non-existent for a moment. She tried to re-call anything, even her own name. Nothing. Everything around her was absolutely nothing. When she tried to move her body it would not respond. Was this death? What had killed her? If she were dead, could she see her parents?

_Mom. Dad. The fire..._ The first memory finally came back to her. Her pain worsened but now she felt she was linked back to reality. This was not death. Perhaps she was asleep. _What is my name?_ With the pain came back her mobility. Now her fingers could move, and her leg rubbed against what she was lying on. It was soft and cool. Her body sunk into it and it felt somewhat familiar. A soft sigh escaped her dry lips. She tried to say a name, but did not know what name to call out for. The lady wanted someone next to her. How did she end up alone like this?

She wanted to call out and see if anyone was there near her, but she could not create words yet. Only sighs came out of her mouth, and small grunts from the pain. _Why does this hurt so much?_ When she made a fist something crunched in her hand. Her fingers played with it. It felt like there was a piece of paper in her hand, but she still had no vision to see what it exactly was. If only she could figure out who she was, then maybe...

"Myrna?" a gentle voice called out to her.

Her eyes blinked open. A red canopy was the first thing she saw as she laid on her back on a bed way too large for her. Her eyes wandered off to the side and her head turned slightly. Glassy green eyes met hers. Soon Myrna broke the gaze and saw this young lady was a familiar friend. "Sansa?" Myrna hoarsely said and began coughing. When was the last time she had a drink of water?

Sansa did not smile for Myrna. Quickly she stood up from the chair she had been seated on beside her bed. "I must tell the Queen you're awake," she coldly informed Myrna. "Be sure to get rid of that before someone else walks in," she hinted and her auburn curls flew in the air behind her when she turned to exit out of the room.

"No, wait!" Myrna pushed herself up shakily as Sansa closed the door behind her. When Myrna moved she felt the thing in her palm again. Inside her hand was a piece of paper scrunched into a ball. Myrna opened it clumsily as her bandages were in the way and saw it was a letter. "Is this what Sansa is talking about?" Myrna said to herself before reading aloud. "_Every day at dusk a mockingbird will walk past your chamber. If you find yourself alone, the mockingbird will help you recover what you lost... but at a price._'"

After re-reading those few sentences over what seemed like a hundred times, Myrna put the letter down on her lap and inhaled a deep breath. Everything was slowly coming together. This was the capital. When she glanced around she saw that this was the same room they had kept her in before. Underneath her was a thick red quilt blanket and in the corner was the same chamber pot and vanity. The last memory she could recall was a giant fist closing in on her head. "Gregor..." Myrna hissed quietly. Gregor Clegane had dragged her all the way back to this hell hole. Now... she really _will_ marry him. Panic struck her like lightning. What happened to her friends? "Sandor..." Myrna now called out another Clegane name but this time it was more of a cry. She put her injured hand up to her chest and her breathing turned ragged. With her other hand she re-crunched the letter and swung her legs off the bed.

It was then when she noticed they had dressed her in a gown and took away her traveling clothing. The dress she wore was a rose red with black on the sides of the skirt of her dress, and the sleeves ended before her elbow. Around her waist was a black corset with a pattern of golden and rusty brown flowers and leaves. The corset had pinched her all the while she slept, which led her to feel numbness and then pain soon after. Myrna wobbled to the nearest lit candle after she managed to stand up on her feet while cursing whoever dressed her. She shakily held the letter over the small flame as she tried to calm herself down by focusing on her breathing. The letter crinkled and turned black as the orange flames engulfed it, and ashes began to fall on the ground. Somehow she took satisfaction from watching the letter burn away.

A loud knock at the door made her jump, and the letter had been taken care of just in time. When the door open she saw Queen Cersei make an elegant entrance with a sly smile tightening her face. Myrna stood there diligently with her hand still pressed against her chest. She waited for the Queen to speak and was very aware of every move she made. Almost too carefully, Cersei found a spot to sit on where Myrna had just been laying. The smile melted off her wicked face. Her eyes were almost the same green as Sansa had, but Cersei's were nowhere near as innocent. They were eyes that could kill if given the slight chance.

"A proper noble lady would show how... _grateful_ she is to be in the presence of a queen who has given her hospitality," Cersei attentively spoke as she examined every inch of Myrna. "Especially after all the trouble you have put us through..."

"I didn't _want_ to be brought back here," Myrna fumed. "You will let me go. This is not my place!"

Cersei tilted her head and her green eyes pierced through Myrna. "You are giving me commands now? Ha!" she chuckled. "If you fancied The Hound I don't see why you would be upset by marrying his brother instead. I see little difference between the two Clegane brothers..."

"Where is he?" Myrna quickly investigated.

Cersei's infamous smug smile appeared on her lips. Without responding, she slowly stood up and gracefully approached Myrna. She almost gently fixed her dark curls and leaned in to whisper in her ear. "My son does not know you are back home yet. If you want me to make this easier on you... do not ever speak of The Hound again... _Forget_ him..." she softly threatened and swiftly pulled away. Myrna gaped at the queen as she watched her exit out of her room as quickly as Sansa had. After the door was closed Myrna felt a rage grow inside her.

Something inside her made her want to run after Cersei and unleash all her anger on the woman. Myrna wanted to grab her long, golden locks and yank it out of her skull. She wanted to sink her nails into her flesh and skin her with her bare hands. Then she would pummel her with her bare fists, she did not care that one of her hands would feel excruciating pain. After not being able to hold back anymore, Myrna ran to her door but when she tried to turn the knob it wouldn't budge. They were keeping her locked in her chamber.

Myrna let out a scream as she punched the wooden door with her good hand. Then she went at it with both hands, screaming nonsense. When Myrna tired herself out, she held her injured hand and slowly sat on the ground resting against the door with her skirt bunching up around her. Her hand felt like it was stinging everywhere and she had some regret despite feeling better on the inside. When she looked closer at her hand she noticed the bandages were different. Whoever handled her while she was unconscious must have changed her bandages. Then she picked up her skirt so her ankle would be visible and saw her ankle was wrapped in a more quality fabric then she had before. Myrna barely noticed any pain when she ran to the door. This was the only upside she saw for being brought back here. Everything else fell apart.

The day was almost gone and Myrna was still trapped inside that chamber. She laid in front of the door, not finding any motivation to move from where she had her outburst. Nothing seemed to be worth doing anymore. Myrna stared blankly at the window that was on the other side of her bed. The window was her only source of time, and she saw the skies outside begin to turn dusky. Her room slowly darkened with every passing hour. The light from the candles near the doorway began to stretch farther into the room and when the sunset hues from the outside turned dark the candles were her only source of light. Everything was so calm and quiet.

From above her she heard a jingle, the first real noise she had heard in hours. When Myrna groaned and stretched to see what it was, she saw it was the doorknob moving. Someone was unlocking her door. Before Myrna could move the door tried to open but she blocked the way. "Hold on!" Myrna rasped and had a coughing fit as she crawled away from the door and to the edge of her bed. Myrna rested her head and arms on the edge of the bed, still sitting on the ground. She did not even care to see who now entered her room. The footsteps boomed inside and she knew it had to be a large man. Some hope filled her, and she allowed herself to turn and see who it was. Myrna felt sick to her stomach.

Gregor stood incredibly tall since she was sitting on the ground. His cold, brown eyes stared down at her. Myrna noticed that he held something in his hand, and the scent of cooked meat and vegetables filled her room. Her stomach turned even more and gurgled. After breaking off the gaze, he turned and put the bowl down roughly on her nightstand. He stared at the bowl for awhile. She wondered what he was doing and why he was in there with her. Myrna wanted to yell at him, but she had no energy.

"Are you going to eat?" he boomed at her from afar.

Myrna looked at the bowl and then at him. "Why are you here?" she softly asked him.

Gregor shifted his weight between his feet. Then he rubbed his face as if he had an ache in his head. The awkwardness was terrible between them. Then a sudden fear overcame Myrna. What if he became angry with her? There was no way to protect herself. She wished she had never given Sandor her dagger. This could have turned out so much different if she only could have protected herself from this man earlier. Now, she had to do what she needed to do in order to survive.

"If you are not going to eat this... I'll smash the damn thing into your face," he snarled at her.

"There's no need," Myrna quickly snapped back. She found her feet with the help of her bed and shuffled towards the nightstand, looking down at the ground as she passed Gregor. Just being near him made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. When she picked up the bowl her hands immediately warmed up. Steam rose from the broth and hit her face. It was comforting. Myrna took a few steps back and sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the food longingly. She picked up the spoon with her good hand after setting the bowl on her lap and began sipping the broth. Myrna did not even notice Gregor staring at her until she had filled her belly on the soup.

He made his way to the other side of her bed and sat down roughly onto it, making her end rise up. "Is there anything else you need?" he asked her with the attempt to sound kind but it came out sounding anything but kind.

_You can let me leave and stop pursuing me_, she thought bitterly but decided now was not the best time to be smart with this man. Myrna remembered the letter she burned and realized she missed her first opportunity to speak with this person calling themselves a mockingbird. "I would be happier if I wasn't locked up in this small room," Myrna genuinely told him.

"You left here with my brother and you expect me to trust you not to leave me again!?" Gregor growled at her.

Myrna had to quickly think of something. "I didn't do it willingly," Myrna lied. Then another idea popped into her head. "Sandor took me by force. You have to believe me. If he isn't here then you have nothing to worry about.." she lied more but the look on Gregor's face didn't change.

The man stood up without saying a word and made his way to her door. Before he stepped out he stopped and stared at the floor for a minute and looked over his shoulder. "If that's the truth... I will need to keep your door locked," he bellowed before stepping out and locking the door behind him.

Myrna stared at the door. "Sandor... You are here, aren't you?" she sighed to herself.

...

When morning came there was a loud knock on her door. She awoke after a rough night with hardly any sleep. The doorknob moved as it was being unlocked and when it opened two knights wearing helms entered. Myrna sat up on her bed concerned. "What's going on?" she demanded.

"We are taking you to the king. It will be decided what will be done with you," one replied, his voice bouncing off his helm.

Myrna threw her covers off and stood up. The two knights went to either side of her and grabbed her arms. For the first time she was allowed outside her chamber and they began walking down a long corridor. Morning sun poured in through the large barred windows and there was also a slight breeze. The air outside her chamber was fresh and cooler. Even though she was relieved to be let out, she felt a sickness in her stomach. Joffrey was the last person she wanted to see. What was he going to do with her? They walked through another door which led to the main corridor to where the entrance of the Throne Room was. Every time they passed someone they would stare at her without a word. Some would even stop so they could look at her longer. Word must have gone around about her. Myrna wondered how bad the rumors were. After what felt like forever they finally arrived to the Throne Room doors.

Her stomach twisted into a tight knot when the doors to the Throne Room slowly creaked open. Old emotions returned to her from when she was kept here before. Myrna focused on breathing to try to make the nausea go away. When the large doors were open wide enough she grew concerned. For some reason she had believed she would be the only one in there to present herself to Joffrey, but there was a crowd of people. The two knights at each side of her pushed her in and helped her break through the crowd. The crowd turned and stared at her as if she were some criminal. Ladies covered their mouths as they whispered to the person next to them. Some men snickered and she heard one say "it's the Hound's bitch". The unwanted attention made Myrna glue her eyes to the stoned floor. All she wanted was to hide away from all their gazes. Once they were in front of the crowd the knights halted her to a stop and when she heard a voice yell out in front of her she looked up so quick she nearly hurt her neck.

"I meant what I said," the giant man growled as he stood in chains before King Joffrey. "_Fuck_ the king!" he spat towards the throne.

Myrna took a step towards him the second her eyes locked onto his back but was roughly pulled back by one of the knights. "Sandor! I'm right here!" she cried out to him.

The Hound stumbled backwards and looked over his shoulder, chains clanking against each other. His lip moved softly as he tried to find something to say, but Joffrey broke in before they could exchange anymore words.

"So the rumors were true?" Joffrey loudly spoke. Myrna watched him squirm in his seat, looking rather troubled. She had no idea what he meant by that. "A noble woman should stay loyal to the man she is betrothed to, not run off with his younger brother. From what I see here it is you, Myrna, who is truly at fault here," he judged her openly.

Myrna opened her mouth to defend herself but the noise in the throne room sharply rose and she could not be heard. The voices around her overlapped with at least fifty others. When Myrna scanned the rowdy crowd she noticed Sansa Stark had been standing within the crowd looking out of place. The girl stood silently, staring straight ahead with lifeless eyes. It were as if Sansa was trying too hard to avoid her. Was she angry with her? The Hound told Myrna that he gave Sansa a chance to leave, but refused the offer. If that was what was wrong then Myrna was not at fault, nor The Hound.

"I _took_ her from here! If anyone is to be punished, it's me!" The Hound defended her, his voice so loud it could be heard over all the other voices.

Joffrey's face began to blush an angry red. "You listen to me, dog! I give the commands here and I will punish anyone I wish!" he clamored, nearly about to raise off of his seat on the throne but he relaxed himself back into it when the room quieted down. "If you don't want the Beaumont girl executed, dog, then you know what you have to do," he said in a more calm tone.

The Hound's chin went down into his chest. He was deep in thought. _What does he have to do?_ Myrna wanted to ask but was too afraid to. It seemed everyone else knew what they were talking about. Myrna walked in too late to hear what was said when they first brought in The Hound. All eyes were on him now. They were waiting for his answer. It meant life or death for her, so she hoped for him to agree but at the same time she did not know what he was agreeing to and how bad it was. Knowing Joffrey, it should be awful. The mixed emotions inside her made her feel like she was being pulled in two different directions.

"Aye, I'll do it..." The Hound sighed hesitantly.

Myrna sighed as well. She would live, but for what? Now what will happen? When she heard some giggling she looked and saw ladies smirking at Sansa. The girl's pale face was flushed, but she kept a solemn expression on her face. Then Myrna noticed a small gesture. The Hound turned his face the other way for a second to give Sansa an apologetic stare. Myrna now had a grasp on what was going on here. It was not going to be awful for The Hound at all, but for herself.

"No..." Myrna choked out.

Joffrey stood up from the old, mean throne. The smile on his face was the salt in the wound. "Myrna Beaumont is still betrothed to Gregor Clegane and will leave for Clegane Hall with him after their wedding," he gave her one last dirty smirk before giving his attention to the other girl he loved to play with. "To ensure she remains loyal to one of the Lannister's most valued knights... Sansa Stark is now betrothed to Sandor Clegane! That will be all this morning," he announced, dismissing everyone from the throne room.


	10. Chapter 10

A stream of people poured out of the Throne Room. Their voices were hushed, but they still made enough noise to irritate her. It gave her fuel to want to lash out and do whatever she wanted to do. _How could Joffrey do this to me?_ Myrna gritted her teeth. As people walked towards the back of the room Myrna rushed forward towards The Hound, barely escaping the knight's hands. The Hound heard her running towards him, and he turned around as best he could to face her. His arms extended when he saw her close in on him. Myrna threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around his torso. When she heard the knights come closer she felt The Hound wrap his arms her tightly as if to protect her from them, the cold metal of his armor chilling her where her skin was exposed.

"Let her go..." one knight ordered The Hound warily.

A chuckle came from the throne. "You two are afraid of a dog that is in chains? You're pathetic," Joffrey taunted them. "Away with her. Now!" he spat an order.

Myrna kept her face buried in The Hound's breastplate. She did not ever want to let go. Once she did he would belong to Sansa. Every person she ever grew to care for has always been ripped away from her in some way. It was not fair. "He can't do this_..._" Myrna whispered, her voice slight muffled by speaking into his chest.

"I'm afraid he can..._for now_," The Hound quietly rasped down at her. He pulled her off of him with his large hands and sent her off with the knights, but not without a threatening glare. The knights quickly grabbed her arms and she kept looking over her shoulder at The Hound as they marched her out of the Throne Room. As she was being forced out she caught the attention of Sansa Stark. The girl silently stood just a few feet away from her in a single spot. The knights pulled Myrna passed the girl but their eyes glued to each other despite people from the crowd walking in between them. Everything seemed to slow down for a moment. Was that pity in the Sansa's eyes? Or something else? Before she realized it, Myrna was forced to go around the corner of the Throne Room door and both Sansa Stark and Sandor Clegane disappeared from view. Her heart sank.

Myrna began to struggle again, and this time one of the knights took the flat of his sword and struck her calf. With a yelp, Myrna collapsed onto the ground and panted as she rubbed where he had struck her. She thanked the Gods it wasn't her bad leg he hit.

"Do you want another lesson!?" the knight growled down at her as the other circled around to face her as well.

Myrna brushed her hair off her face and glared up at him. "The next time I see Gregor... I will tell him who is bruising his bride," she threatened.

The knight stood still. Myrna could not tell what he was thinking because of the helm covering his face but from the long pause she figured her quick wit scared some sense into him. Without a word he propped her back up on her feet and both of the knights continued to escort her back to her chamber. Once again she stared at the ground in front of her so she would avoid the stares from anyone who happened to pass her by. It seemed everyone thought The Hound and her were smitten with one another, which was only somewhat true but mostly false. Nothing real ever happened between them during their short journey together outside of King's Landing. Although the way he wrapped his arms around her in the Throne Room gave her hope that maybe he was still willing to give her a chance if they could climb out of this hole.

They came to a halt and Myrna looked to the side expecting to see her bed chamber door but instead there was nothing but a stone wall. Once she looked forward she saw Gregor Clegane making his way towards them, and the knights let go of Myrna and took a step back. Myrna held her breath as the man grew taller and taller with every step he took towards her. He put a finger under her chin when he was close enough to make her look up at him. An eerie smile tightened his face. "Your big, dark eyes... I always liked them," he rasped so deep it sounded like his words were stuck in his throat.

"Your bride showed affection towards The Hound in front of the king, ser. I thought you might want to know that," the knight who struck her blurted out.

Gregor's grip tightened on Myrna's chin and it made her wince and whine. The smile disappeared. _You bastard_, she thought as she tried to remove Gregor's hand with both her hands but it only made him tighten his grip more. "Leave," Gregor boomed. At once they were left alone in the corridor and the only noise that was heard was Myrna's whimpers.

"Let go! You're _hurting_ me," Myrna loosened her grip on Gregor's hand, giving up.

He took away his hand, just as she requested. Myrna stared at him and stood as still as she could manage. Then at once his fist flew at her, making impact with her jaw. Myrna went flying into the stone wall and her head struck it hard but she caught herself with her arms. Then she felt her hair being yanked from behind, and she landed on her back on the pavement. Myrna squeezed her eyes shut when she felt herself fall, and when she opened them she saw a longsword pointing at her neck and Gregor was holding the blade. At that moment she feared for her life.

"That man... he lied! I did no such thing. To be quite honest... _he_ struck me with his sword right before we ran into you," Myrna put as much sweetness as she could into her voice so her half-lie was believable. Gregor's eyes narrowed when he heard that.

He grumbled before speaking. "That the truth?" he bellowed, putting more pressure onto the blade.

Myrna pointed down at her leg. "Look at the back of my knee... I swear, 'tis the truth," she begged and when Gregor used the toe of his boot to move her skirt the red mark was revealed. Gregor grinded his teeth, and Myrna felt she had a small victory. At least one man will get what is coming to him. After that Gregor put his sword back into its sheath but he kept his hand firmly on the hilt. He turned and began walking down where the knights had left, and Myrna sat herself up and was slightly muddled. "What... What about locking me up?" she called out to him.

He stopped and turned stiffly to face her. "Are you planning on running away?" he stared at her hard. Myrna shook her head promptly. "Then there is no need to lock you up anymore. My brother... you cannot reach him anyway," Gregor made a deep, rumbling noise that Myrna believed was a laugh before turning back around and walking down the corridor.

_What does he mean by that?_ Myrna was worried about The Hound. She wondered where they were keeping him and where they meant to put him after he married Sansa. Thinking about watching him marrying her made her queasy. Then thinking about her own marriage made her feel even worse. Sighing, she found her feet and when she moved her jaw it hurt like the Seven hells. Myrna gently touched it to make sure nothing was broken, and she was confident she would be fine. As she made her way to her chamber she shook off all the negative thoughts she kept in her head. Gregor now allowed her some freedom, and all she needed was an unlocked door at night. The letter, she recalled, said that a "mockingbird" was willing to help her and whoever they were walked past her chamber every evening. There is a price, though. That weighed heavy on her mind.

...

Impatience made her wait outside her chamber door. Myrna sat with her back against the rough boards of her door and had her legs stretched out in front of her. Occasionally she would flatten out her dress and examine the bandages on her hand as she waited. The first time she heard footsteps come from down the corridor they were only handmaidens who stared at her funny as they walked past her. Myrna doubted they were of any help. After letting out a heavy sigh, Myrna crossed her arms across her chest and watched the shadows in the hallway grow longer as the sun began to set.

Her thoughts went to Brenda and Arya. If they had been caught, too, wouldn't they have been in the Throne Room as well? Myrna was beginning to feel guilty for everything that had happened before the Mountain found them. She could have held back some words, or at least not have been so harsh. Remembering the way Brenda wept made her realize that she still loved her brother. Seven years, and Brenda still had feelings for Nicholas. Myrna had to apologize if she ever had the chance to see Brenda.

Hopefully Arya was with Brenda. The girl would be safe with her. Maybe if Sansa wasn't too angry with Myrna, for whatever reason, she could talk to her about how she met Arya. When the Mountain had encountered them she remembered the fear in Arya's eyes. They had mostly fought during their time together, but she looked genuinely worried for Myrna during that last minute. How did The Hound react when Arya told him the Mountain had caught her? Did she even make it back to the Hound and Brenda?

A noise caught her attention. Soft footsteps quickly made their way towards her, and she uncrossed her arms and sat herself up straighter. The way she stretched made her back ache, but she ignored the pain. When the figure was closer she saw it was a tall, lean man. He wore a black velvet tunic and matching black breeches. A dark cloak flew behind him, and it was fastened around his neck with what looked like a mockingbird.

_The mockingbird_, she realized.

"Was it you who wrote me the letter?" Myrna abruptly asked the man as she stood up to greet him.

He turned around to peer down the corridor and then back at her with his index finger brought up to his lips to signal to lower her voice. "I am here to help you, m'lady. My name is Petyr Baelish," he introduced himself in a hush tone and he slightly bowed. His eyes kept glancing at her jaw. A bruise must have formed.

Myrna had heard of this man now that she thought about it. She somewhat recalled seeing him wander around the Red Keep as well but she could not be too certain if she could trust this Petyr Baelish. This man had rumors that questioned his loyalty. Will this man keep his word? "Do you know where they are keeping Sandor Clegane?" she asked first, pushing her doubts aside for the moment.

"Sandor Clegane is locked up in a cell in the dungeons. I'm afraid he has to stay there until he is wedded to Sansa Stark, and even then will not have privileges until you are sent off to Clegane Hall after _your_ marriage," he explained softly.

"So what am I to do?" she muttered.

Baelish smiled. "Well, first you have to tell me what you want..."

"I want out of here!" Myrna replied as if her answer was obvious.

"Yes, but with or without Sandor Clegane?" he asked further.

Myrna paused before answering. "With," she decided.

"That will be more difficult. Are you sure you want to risk it? He has a pretty bride with a big name. Any man would be happy with that, I would think..." Baelish smirked and it made Myrna uneasy. Once again he peered down the empty corridor and then back at her. "I would feel more comfortable if we could continue this conversation in a more private area," he leaned in towards her and spoke in a much softer tone. After getting the hint, Myrna nodded and she turned around to open her door to her chamber. When she walked in Baelish was quick to follow and he gently closed the door behind him. He paused for a few seconds before swiftly turning around to face her again with a smile on his face.

"You said there is a price," Myrna began. It had just occurred to her that they are now alone in her bedchamber. Was this the kind of payment this man wanted? It made her stomach turn.

Baelish took a couple more steps inside and looked around the room. "There is always a price, but I will speak of that later. I must be honest with you, Myrna. There is no way in my power that I can stop Sansa Stark and Sandor Clegane from marrying. The wedding is being held tomorrow night," he explained.

"So soon!?" Myrna cried out, not wanting to believe what she just heard.

He made a sudden movement towards her and lifted her chin with his finger so she would look him in the eye. "Deep in their hearts, they are not man and wife. I would not fear anything, sweetheart. The important thing here is that there is time for me to smuggle you out of this city before you are wed to Gregor Clegane..."

"When will that be?" she asked as her eyes darted back and forth between his still grey eyes.

"Not for awhile. Sansa Stark and Sandor Clegane happen to be Joffrey's favorite toys. He will initially give them all his attention while you wait for your turn," he smirked.

Angry, she shook her head and broke Baelish's grasp on her chin. "That's what I don't understand! I thought Sansa was going to marry Joffrey. Why would he just give away his bride to Sandor?"

"The Tyrell's helped save the city from being sacked by Stannis Baratheon, and that lead to Margaery Tyrell becoming Joffrey's new bride. That makes Sansa Stark available for _anyone_," he said in a rather sinister tone that Myrna did not like. There was an awkward pause.

"So... What exactly do I have to do?" she stammered.

He did not respond right away. Baelish walked over to her vanity and sat himself down slowly on the wooden stool facing her. His eyes examined her and she felt uncomfortable but frozen at the same time. Myrna wanted to move away from his eyes so badly. "I realize this may be difficult for you to perform, but you must in order to successfully leave this city. My dear, you have to befriend Sansa Stark and persuade her to fly away with you, and with her husband..."

"Why does Sansa have to come with?" Myrna found herself saying in a rather disgusted tone. It surprised herself. Had she really become so jealous?

Baelish seemed to have picked up the bitterness in her voice and grinned. "Why, that is my payment. After we exit the walls of the city we will make a trade. I will leave for the Eyrie with Sansa to meet up with her aunt and you can go with Sandor to the North where my friend will be taking you. He claims to have ties with the once great Beaumont Hall. I was sure you would enjoy that news," he softened his voice.

"You... want me to betray Sansa?" she muttered under her breath. Despite the jealousy, she did not know if she could do that to Sansa. Petyr Baelish seemed to be an untrustworthy man with deep issues. What did he plan on doing with her? Then the idea if going back home started to settle in. When Baelish told her that bit it was like a hit that took her by surprise. Before, Sandor and her did not have a goal. This time they would have a light at the end of the tunnel. There is something out there for the both of them. Was giving Sansa away to this man worth it? "I... I have no other option, do I?" Myrna said aloud.

"I'm afraid you do not," Baelish replied.

Myrna squeezed her eyes shut and shuddered. Then she nodded.

"Good girl," he rasped and Myrna opened her eyes to see him rise off the stool swiftly and he walked past her towards her door. "I cannot give you an exact time or tell you exactly how this will play out. But trust me, you will know when the time has come," he gave her a hard look before opening her door.

"Wait... Do you think... I could see Sandor?" Myrna asked.

Baelish stared at her and softly closed the door again. "How much time do you need?" he asked.

"I just want to make sure he is alright," she hugged herself, feeling somewhat odd by the words she said to Baelish.

He looked down to the ground as he thought and then he looked at her when he found his answer. "Gregor Clegane has business with Tywin Lannister tonight. Plus, the wedding is tomorrow so..." he trailed off as he went deeper into thought. This man was careful. "Yes, I suppose you are the appropriate messenger for our little plan. Come," he opened the door quietly and Myrna quickly stepped out while pulling on her skirt so she would not trip.

Suddenly she felt a hand grip her shoulder and Myrna could feel hot air from Baelish's mouth on her neck. "I did not show you where they are keeping Sandor Clegane," he threatened her from behind. "It's surprisingly easy how people die so quick down in those cells. Hopefully your friend lives long enough to get out," he whispered and Myrna watched him swerve around her and begin walking down the dark corridor as if he had done nothing. Myrna shuddered. After inhaling and exhaling to calm herself, she once again began walking behind Baelish and followed him. "Remember the way there, I will not be able to escort you back," he added once they turned a corner. They walked a ways until they started approaching a small tower that was hard to see now that the sun had gone down. Once they approached the tower entrance door Baelish opened it cautiously and peered in. He peeked over his shoulder and turned his body so Myrna could walk in.

After she found her way inside she came to a slow stop and shivered. This place was cold, and it was only the main floor. A sudden click from behind made her jump. Baelish has closed the door and left her on her own. Somehow she was more relieved than worried. There would have been plenty of light in this room if it were daylight. Up high close to the ceiling there were small windows in a line, but outside there was only the small glimmer from the moon. Myrna did not ask which floor The Hound was being kept in. Hopefully he was in the same room she was in right now.

The first cell she went by was empty. After that Myrna quickly walked by the second cell and there was a man sleeping on the floor, but it was not The Hound. Quietly now, so not to wake up any unwanted company, she checked the next one and once again there was nothing. She noticed that she was nearing the next flight of stairs that lead to the next floor of the dungeon and her hopes of having to avoid that were dying. Before needing to take the first step down there was one more cell on the main floor. When she peered in, it seemed like nothing was in there. It was dark, only a small torch lit in the right back corner. Though it seemed like there was something resting in the left back corner. Should she call out? A voice broke the silence before she could open her mouth. "Is it time already?" a dry, hoarse voice complained. Myrna was relieved by the familiarity of it.

"Sandor..." Myrna softly said his name as she confidently approached the rusty bars. "It's me," she tried her best to see him in the shadow.

She heard what sounded like a boot scraping against the pavement and hands smacking the wet stones in the shadowed corner. Then a silhouette took form and slowly the large man came into view with his armor clamoring and leather scrunching. Myrna was smiling but then the smile faded. His face was covered in cuts and bruises, and it was slightly swollen around his jaw. There was a slight nervous glance he made at the torch lit on the wall, but he braved it out and continued to march over to her. When he came closer and grabbed the cell bars she saw how empty his eyes looked, but there was a hint of confusion and sadness. "The fuck is wrong with you...?" he croaked.

"I just wanted to see you," she put her good hand over one of his large, dirty hands.

"Well, you see me..." he sighed.

Myrna blinked away tears. "Gregor?" she asked.

He nodded but then his eyes narrowed when he saw her face. "You too?" he rasped, commenting on her jaw. When she nodded back he cursed. "Fucking, bloody cunt... They told me no one would lay a hand on you!" he breathed funny, and winced as he rested his forehead against one of the bars. "Fucking seven hells... This is Gregor we're talkin' about. Why did I ever believe their stupid words?" his voice quivered slightly and he grew quiet.

Myrna tightened her grip on his hand and that made him look at her eyes. "Listen... we have a chance to get out," she told him and his eyes grew stern. "Petyr Baelish is giving us a chance to escape, and Sansa, too. We can all go North," she lied, knowing Sansa could not go North with them. It made her feel sick. Myrna knew The Hound hated liars, which is why she had to leave him in the dark too. First she had to get them out, no matter what. Then she would deal with the consequences.

"Baelish? That fucking worm? I wouldn't trust him with a bloody penny," he sounded annoyed.

Sighing, she looked at his hands and brushed her fingers gently over them as she held them. "We have to take any chance we can get," she defended herself. "The thing is... your marriage with Sansa is tomorrow. There's nothing we can do to stop it..."

The Hound looked down to the ground. It was quiet for a moment between them before The Hound tried speaking again. "If I don't, Joffrey will..."

"I know. He'll kill me," Myrna cut in.

At once The Hound pulled his hand away from the bar and escaped her grasp. Then he reached out between the space of the bars and pulled her in closer. They hugged with the bars between them. "Vows are just words, Myrna. You know what you have to do in order to be a _knight_? Make a bloody oath. I piss on those words. And how is a marriage any different? I just say a few words to the Stark girl, and I _know_ she won't want to touch me during the bedding. Bitch never even looks at my face..." he cursed her, but it was gentle as if he didn't mean it truly. That gave Myrna mixed feelings. "What I'm trying to say is that there is nothing to worry about between her and I. What you should be worrying about is having to be near my cunt brother," he rasped.

"I also want to ask... do you know what happened to Brenda and Arya?" she softly asked but The Hound's response shocked her. He pulled away roughly from her and gave her an angry look that made his scar seem to pull on the rest of his face. "What happened?" she asked with a more concern tone.

The Hound shook his head, wisps of hair that he tried to keep over his burn fell out of place. "Listen to me, Myrna. I think Brenda was working for my brother this whole time," he replied.

"What!? How can you say that?" she snapped back.

"When my brother and his men came after us, they only went after _me_. That's why I was so easily taken down. They didn't fucking care about Brenda and Arya. She just took Arya and ran without a single knight running after her. For all we know, Brenda probably got all the ransom for herself from my brother. That's what we get for trusting a bloody whore," he grumbled.

Myrna grabbed the cell bars and squeezed. "No. That's not possible. Brenda blames The Mountain for everything that happened to my family and town!"

"That was seven years ago! Who knows what happened from then 'til now? Hells, maybe she was working for my brother back then too..." he rasped and that only angered Myrna more.

"Are you trying to say she's been lying to my face since the day I met her?" she spat. "That can't be true. Brenda loved Nicholas. There is no way she would side with the man that falsely accused my brother of murder and took away his knighthood!"

The look on The Hound's battered face made her calm herself down. He looked hurt, physically and emotionally. "Let's not worry about this now," he said almost gently.

Myrna nodded. "You're right," she told him, taming her voice. When she reached into his cell with her good hand he stared at it and then grabbed it with one of his hands. "Take care of yourself... And do whatever you need to do to keep us alive," Myrna told him. He blinked when she said that, as if what she said shocked him.

"Same here..." he bellowed and squeezed her hand before letting go. Myrna pulled herself away from the bars slowly, not wanting to leave him all alone in the dark and damp dungeon. Her lip trembled and she quickly turned and prattled passed all the cells. Once she reached the heavy entrance door she opened it slowly and slipped out when it was wide enough for her to come out. When she closed it Myrna pushed her back against the wooden frame and began to whimper. Her vision grew blurry and she put her hand over her mouth to muffle her sobs. All of the doubts she held inside her from the moment she met Baelish that evening were now released and overwhelming her. After swallowing a few times and drying her cheeks, Myrna pushed herself away from the closed door and began making her way towards her chamber. There was a wedding to attend tomorrow, and she needed her rest.


	11. Chapter 11

All alone she sat in the dark, musty sept on a wooden bench not too far from the altar. Rays of light beamed down from the high windows and small flecks of dust danced in the air inside them. When she peered up to the altar she realized she was not alone. A septon stood in front of The Hound and Sansa Stark. Myrna swallowed and blinked away tears. Then she looked around at the emptiness again.

"You don't have to do this..." she said softly but they did not seem to hear her. Myrna stood up and stepped sideways to get out of the tight fitted area between the benches. "There's no one here to stop us. You don't have to do this!" she called out louder at them as she approached the bottom step of the altar.

Sansa smiled beautifully at him. "I'm... _very_ happy," she told him.

"What?" Myrna asked in shock.

The Hound smirked back. "After I kill Gregor we can live at Clegane Hall. I'll take you away from this hell hole," he replied and he went to grab one of her red curls and stroked it.

"What in seven hells is going on!?" Myrna yelled at them. Not one of them looked at her. Furious, she skipped up the altar steps and countered them. First she went to The Hound and grabbed a tight hold of one of his massive arms. "You told me not to worry about you and her! Were you lying to me!?" her voice trembled as she pulled on his arm.

At last he recognized her presence but his small smile turned into a disgusting frown. "Who the fuck are you?" he asked her rudely.

"Are you trying to spoil my wedding?" Sansa joined in, also frowning at Myrna.

The Hound, Sansa and the septon now stared at her coldly. She had never felt so out of place. Letting her hands slip off of The Hound she realized her hand did not have a bandage on it and she was wearing breeches instead of a skirt. How did this happen? Myrna began shaking her head. "Why... What is happening?" she felt herself beginning to sob.

"You going to fucking cry now?" The Hound sounded annoyed.

Sansa's face began to turn pink. "Leave now before we force you to leave," she threatened.

The Hound turned to the septon. "Fucking hells. Why did you allow this dirty wench into the sept?"

"Those clothes are disgusting. Throw her back to the tavern she came from," Sansa eyed Myrna with a sly look. The Hound and the septon began staring at her once again as well.

"Why are you talking to me this way? Don't you know who I am?" Myrna desperately asked.

Suddenly Sansa moved. Her eyes widened so much she looked terrifying and she did not stop walking until she was inches away from Myrna's face. "Perhaps I should ask you some questions. Why are you doing _this_ to me?" she hissed in a voice that did not match her usual voice.

"What are you talking about?" Myrna began saying but backed away to get away from Sansa but the girl followed.

"You're going to give me to Baelish when I least expect it. I'm just cargo to you, and you're waiting to sell me for your freedom," she began crying and the skin around her eyes turned pinker. "Don't you have a heart!?" she screamed as she punched Myrna in the chest so hard it made a deep booming noise. Myrna took a step back but felt nothing. Suddenly she went flying down the altar steps, twisting in ways that made the skin on her back tighten from her scar and it was so painful she screamed. Every step on the way down she hit and at the end she just moaned and laid on the ground.

When she opened her eyes to peer up at the altar she saw a face right in front of hers. "It's time to wake up, my lady," her handmaiden said with a straight face. The surroundings changed, and she was in her bedchamber and lying in her bed.

A hole she had felt inside her chest for years seemed to have grown a little bigger today. That morning when she opened her eyes it only took her a few seconds to feel like she was falling apart. The handmaiden had been next to her and helped her out of bed. She had a small frame and looked delicate. Her honey colored hair was pinned up and she wore a heavy frown. If she had smiled, she might have been pretty. Myrna needed some kind of comfort and was desperate for any kind of contact. While the handmaiden fumbled in the closet Myrna sat in her small clothes on the edge of her bed and thought of something to say. "Will you be here often?" she started a conversation.

"My lady, you will not be here long. There's no need to become familiar with me," she flatly replied. That was the end of their talk.

The same red and black dress she had worn the previous days was put on her, but it felt heavier today. When she shuffled to her mirror she was sluggish, and dark circles formed under her eyes. The bruise on her jaw was beginning to turn purple and she played with her messy curls to try and hide it. In the mirror she saw the tiny handmaiden make her bed with haste and hurried out of the room, closing the door hard behind her. The handmaiden did not even fix her hair. Sighing, Myrna made her way over to her vanity and picked up one of her brushes and gently sat on the stool. For awhile she sat alone, combing her dark curls. They were hard to manage and was sure she did not look appropriate for a wedding. It did not matter. In fact, she wanted to look like how she felt on the inside and show everyone what they were doing to her. Not even a mere handmaiden wanted to be her friend.

A loud knock on her door made her look over her shoulder in the middle of brushing and the door swung open. Myrna swallowed and her eyes widened. Gregor Clegane was dressed in his suit of armor and he noisily made his way into her room while staring at her. After putting her brush away Myrna stood up and straightened the skirt of her dress before standing before him. She curtsied to make sure she was being as respectful as possible towards the man to save herself some pain.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice as deep as a shadow cat's growl.

Myrna nodded. "I am," she lied.

He approached her with only a few steps with his long legs. When he stopped he reached and stroked her hair the way The Hound did to Sansa in her dream. Myrna began blinking rapidly and looked down at the ground so it would not be so noticeable. Then suddenly he tugged hard on a handful of curls and she cried out. "Who the fuck is taking care of you? You look like a tavern wench. Do you want me to look like the husband of a bloody commoner?" he boomed down at her and it reminded her of her dream once more.

"I'm sorry!" she wailed, head still being pulled down. The scars on her back did not agree with how she was bending. Her skin around the scars were being tugged and irritated. All she wanted as to fix herself and stand straight to stop the discomfort. Myrna had to bite her tongue to not cry out for The Hound. Suddenly he began pulling her hair in a different direction. The lady was being led out of her bedchamber by her hair. Clumsily she tried to keep up with the tall man so she would not trip and fall and make her scalp feel even more pain. Despite her efforts, she could not keep her mouth shut. Myrna kept wailing with every step the man took and with every tug of her hair. People stopped and stared at the two of them as he made his way down the corridor.

"Where is her bloody handmaiden? Hm!?" he called out to them. None of them were of any help, so they just pushed their backs against the wall and watched Myrna being tortured. "You expect my lady to look like this!?" he gave one final tug and threw Myrna on the cold, hard floor in front of him. Paralyzed, Myrna laid there with her forehead resting against the rough stone pavement. She felt a liquid quickly drip from her nose. Gregor was yelling more, but Myrna no longer listened. Her eyes were squeezed shut and the harsh scent of blood filled her nose. Myrna panted with her mouth open and focused on breathing. The part of her that wanted to cry was slowly being willed away, and just in time. A hand grabbed her arm and she was pulled up like a rag doll. When she opened her eyes she saw red drops fall from her face and to the pavement that already was stained from her lying there. When she found her feet Myrna kept her face down and her long dark curls covering her face so Gregor wouldn't see what he had done to her but it was of no use. He used his other hand to make her look up at him and her hair fell off her face. The blood did not phase him and Myrna realized that should not surprise her.

Gregor pulled his hands away. He searched for something on himself, and he pulled out a dirty handkerchief and held it out in front of him. Myrna stared at it for a few seconds before slowly grabbing it from him and began to wipe her face. "Thank you," she said with emptiness in her voice.

"Walk," he boomed an order as he began walking down the corridor again. Myrna obeyed while she pinched the bridge of her nose with the mud scented handkerchief and tried to ignore the stares from the witnesses. She wondered where they were going. At first she was sure they were going to attend the wedding, but are they now going to find her handmaiden? Communication with Gregor seemed impossible. The giant man walked with haste, most likely due to his blood boiling. Myrna was not at her prettiest and he had to be seen with her. Something made her want to try and say something to him, but she had to practically jog just to stay close behind him. Soon they had left the wing of the Red Keep where most are the bed chambers were and they were entering one of the main halls. A stream of people were exiting, and they joined the flow. People became wary when they saw both of them and it seemed they had a bubble around them that no one would enter. Myrna could feel herself turn red by knowing how ridiculous she must look. Most looks she received were full of pity, but no one dared go between a mad dog and his meal.

A couple near her were chatting loudly and Myrna caught herself listening as she stayed close behind Gregor. "The Sept of Baelor? Why would they be getting married there? It's only meant for royalty," the man said.

"Apparently King Joffrey wants it to be that way so everyone can watch that poor girl marry that wicked man," the lady replied wistfully. "It will be the same for-" she had tried to continued but she had caught eye contact with Myrna. The couple's faces filled with shock and they disappeared into the crowd as Myrna watched with fury. _A wicked man? Sandor is nowhere as bad as most men_, she wanted to yell at them. She inhaled sharply but them whimpered softly because of the pain. Myrna removed the handkerchief and patted her nostrils with the tip of her finger to see if it was still bleeding. She was confident she would be alright for now. When she looked ahead she felt like she could not take her eyes off of Gregor's back. If only she had her dagger. If only she had anything she could attack him with. _It's all your fault_, she tried to squeeze the handkerchief in her hand, but the bandages interfered.

Just as the people had said, she began to figure out they were heading towards the Sept of Baelor. After they left the castle walls it was a short walk onto the large platform and towards the steps to the sept. Myrna made sure not to stay too far back from Gregor in order to prevent him getting angry with her but it was difficult to keep up with his massive, long legs. Myrna was quick to become out of breath thanks to the limited use of her nose.

Once inside they had a seat much closer than she thought they would, but the crowd made it difficult to see much of anything as they made their way to their seat. They made it to the third row, much closer than she had expected. Gregor stepped in and Myrna ended up being right at the end of the bench. Gregor had trouble fitting in between the spaces of the rows but it helped that they all remained standing instead of sitting on the benches. Myrna feared he would throw a temper tantrum from the discomfort he was obviously experiencing but he remained tame. Her eyes were drawn to the front of the sept where the altar was and now she could finally see it. First Queen Regent Cersei caught her eye. The lady was wearing red and gold to match the colors of her house, and her hair was beautifully curled and dangled about her shoulders. Cersei did not seem to be looking at anything, but wore a face that covered the cruel thoughts that are most likely going through her head.

Then Myrna looked a little higher up and gasped. The Hound had been standing there all along at the very top. He had already been watching them. Something gripped her shoulder tightly, and when she looked she saw a massive hand bigger than The Hounds. Gregor let out a deep rumble and noticed he was peering at The Hound with the dirtiest smile she had ever seen. _He's laughing at him_, Myrna recognized at once.

When she gazed back at The Hound she was unsure as to how to act. The Hound still wore his same old armor and she noticed the cloak with his house's sigil on it, the three black dogs lined up over one another, resting on his back. Soon it would be on Sansa. Myrna was a mixture of melancholy, anger and envy and she saw the same in his cold eyes. His deep, hard frown tightened when he finally pulled away from her eyes, almost as if he were disgusted. The Hound already seemed he had enough of all of this but he had no choice if Myrna wanted to live. Myrna had gave him the permission to do whatever he needed to do to keep them both alive and he was doing just that. Now he stared down the aisle once the sept began to quiet down after filling up. Myrna continued to watch him, and did not mind that his burn was plain in sight. Everyone else around her seemed to avoid looking at him, and they all were peering down the aisle as well. A groan came from the back of the sept from where they came in, and light poured in.

Myrna turned her head slightly so she could see the aisle from the corner of her eye and two lengthy shadows sprawled out on the carpet caught her attention. The silhouette's inched closer with every second and momentarily Myrna saw Sansa clutching Joffrey's arm as he walked her through the crowd. Sansa's dress was an ivory colored ballgown and her red hair was curled and pinned up, and some hair underneath was braided and rested on her shoulders. She sucked in air when she saw Sansa but the girl did not seem to notice anything around her. Sansa's green eyes were locked ahead of her. _Don't you have a heart?_ Sansa's voice from her dream rang in her head. Would Myrna really be able to betray this girl? Once again she felt Gregor's hand tighten on her shoulder. After wincing, Myrna rose her chin as high as she could so she could look at his face. He smiled, but it was cruel. Gregor knew how Myrna was feeling. She swallowed to hold back tears and lowered her gaze to her feet before looking back towards the altar. Sansa had climbed the final step and now approached The Hound warily. Joffrey turned around and revealed a smile that was ten times more mocking than Gregor's had been. Everyone around her was enjoying how her life had been crumbling to pieces with every minute that went by. At least Sansa and The Hound did not seem to want to be there as they had in her dream.

Sansa's silky ivory dress gleamed in the sunlight as did her red hair. Everything was perfect except she was missing a smile every bride should wear. When she was appropriately standing in front of The Hound the septon began his speeches. A few times Myrna had to shut her eyes as it seemed the room would spin around her. Her dream from that morning came into play, but she reminded herself that it was simply a dream and nothing more. Even though Gregor's touch made her skin crawl, she was somewhat grateful that his grip would ensure she would not topple over. Perhaps she was the only one in that room who felt sick.

When she focused her eyes back at the altar The Hound had already draped Sansa in the black and yellow Clegane cloak. The girl grabbed the collar and held it onto her so it would not slip off. It was obvious that it weighed her down, because anything The Hound wore was massive. The septon rambled on, now wrapping their hands together in a piece of cloth. "Now, you may look upon one another's face..." he said in a way that made the situation clearly awkward. The Hound ignored the hint. "...and say the words for all to hear," he stepped back and gave them the command.

They adjusted their feet so they would face each other as best they could. Sansa looked like a child next to The Hound. "Father, smith..." The Hound's deep voice rang but Sansa's was absent so The Hound abruptly stopped. Sansa stood there gawking at him looking rather cumbersome. People began whispering in the crowd.

"Sansa Stark. The words, if you please..." the septon urged the girl.

The girl nodded and took a deep breath. When she opened her mouth to speak she suddenly went limp and her legs gave out on her. A woman screamed when the girl toppled over. The Hound grabbed her before she hit the floor, but she dangled in his arms and was clearly unconscious. Myrna was wrong about being the only one feeling ill it had appeared.

Joffrey grew furious. "What's the matter with her!? Wake her up! _Do it!_" he yelled at everyone in the room.

An older man who wore metal rings around his neck shuffled as fast as he was able towards Sansa and The Hound. Now The Hound was kneeling so holding the girl would be more comfortable in his arms and the old man could examine her with ease. Myrna felt her belly twist in a knot as the scene unfolded before her. The whispers in the crowd were now becoming conversations and questions. Joffrey was clearly impatient and made his way towards the old man as he hopped up to the top of the altar. They held a perplexed conversation that Myrna could not hear due to the nearby voices muting it, and soon she saw Cersei follow her son to see what was happening.

Someone she did not realize was there stepped out of the sidelines where Joffrey and Cersei had been standing. Tywin Lannister faced everyone and before he even spoke everyone quieted down. "The wedding between Sansa Stark and Sandor Clegane will be delayed. Everyone, please return to your normal duties..." he announced loudly. People were quick to obey, and the people in the far back began making their leave. Tywin remained standing there, and for a second she thought he was staring at her but suddenly felt a push next to her. Gregor shoved his way out from the benches and stomped his way up to Tywin Lannister. Myrna awkwardly stood in the middle of the aisle where Sansa and Joffrey had just walked down as she saw Gregor's back grow smaller as he immediately began having a heated conversation with Tywin. Over their heads she noticed The Hound. Still kneeling and with a pretty bride in his arms but his eyes were on Myrna. It were as if he was trying to tell her something, but the risk was too high.

At once Gregor swiftly turned around and was huffing as he made his way back down the aisle and towards the back of the sept. The man was so angry he did not even see Myrna as he hurried by and she turned to watch him leave. People who were in the middle of leaving separated so there would be enough room to let the angry Clegane out without causing any injuries. "He's always been a tough one. You have my condolences," a cool voice came from behind.

Tywin Lannister stood straight and tall with his arms behind his back as he apologized to her. He made his way back to the altar without another word most likely to check on the situation. Myrna was not sure, but despite the calmness in his voice he sounded genuine. Then she took one last look at the crowd of people at the top of the altar. _Was Sansa okay_? Myrna wondered. _How does The Hound feel about all of this?_ People in her area were now making their way out and she flowed with the crowd. Myrna doubted they would have allowed her near The Hound and even if they did it would only raise questions.

As she made it out of the Sept of Baelor and back inside the walls of the Red Keep she took her time going back to her chamber. The corridors were dead silent. When she walked past the corridor that led to the Round Room and remembered that night when Stannis tried to sack the city. The Hound stumbled in on her, and in the end tried to save her from what is now happening to her. Maybe at the time he did not expect the two of them to end up the way they did. How odd it is that they did not even share intimacy, but yet they longed for each other after it was far too late. Myrna looked down at her hand as she made herself continue towards her bedchamber. They had held hands down at the dungeons. Would she ever get a chance to do that again? Myrna's thoughts rang loud in her head as she found her way to the door of her bedchamber, and she pushed it open.

A large figure had been sitting on the edge of her bed. Everything was dark since the drapes covered the windows and the darkness cloaked him as well. Myrna took a small step towards the figure and the person seemed to notice her now. The figure straightened up and when Myrna was close enough she saw a face come out of the shadow. Myrna froze where she stood. Gregor's eyes locked onto her as his jaw was cupped in his massive hands. Veins bulged on the side of his head and his eyes looked as if they were tired from straining.

"Are you mad?" Myrna asked in a low, husky voice.

Gregor suddenly reached out and grabbed a hold of one of her arms and it made Myrna whimper. He tugged her in close to him roughly but did nothing after. She could feel his breath on her forehead. Even though Myrna was standing and Gregor was sitting he still was taller than her. After glancing around nervously, she focused on his breastplate and waited for him to say anything.

"They're wasting... so much of my fucking time..." he hoarsely whispered to himself and then directed his voice at her sharply while squeezing her arms. "Why do you treat me this way!?" he harshly questioned her.

Confused, Myrna slightly shook her head but did not move her gaze anywhere else. "I do not understand..." she was interrupted when Gregor grabbed her jaw and forced her to look up at him. His eyes were so wide she could see the whites all the way around his dark brown iris. Myrna tried to speak again but his hand made it impossible to do so.

"You were not afraid to look at me when you were young. Why did that change?" he demanded.

A flashback of seeing her brother Nicholas in chains when she still lived at Beaumont Hall filled her with fury. Myrna grabbed Gregor's wrist and with all her might pulled it away from her jaw. Gently she rubbed her face and glared at him with tears welling in her dark eyes. "What you did to my brother was unspeakable. I was protecting my family," she defended herself.

"Would you still protect him?" Gregor grumbled.

"No..." Myrna blurted out but knew she sounded hypocritical. Did Gregor know about her back? Why would he, anyway? "That's not the point. At the time he was good to me and you dishonored him. I _saw_ you kill your own man and you put the blame on my brother," she spat.

Gregor slightly opened his mouth and looked Myrna over before speaking. "Have you seen him lately, woman? Do you know who your brother has become?" he devilishly questioned her. He did not give her a chance to reply. "People fear me, but if they knew your brother, they would choose me every time. There's a reason I hunted for you all these years. Nicholas was close, but I got to you first. You should be on your knees thanking me," he croaked a deep laugh and pushed Myrna down with his hand on the back of her head. Once she realized where he was putting her face she squealed and found her way out of his grasp. Myrna landed hard on her rear from not catching her balance when she was free from Gregor. Backwards she crawled away from him and had to brush her hair away from her face.

"You're... You're a sick man!" she screamed between heavy breaths.

Gregor stood up and slowly approached her. Myrna gulped and her arms trembled as she held herself up with them. "We are not wed yet, so I will let this slide. Just this once," he bellowed as he walked around her. Myrna turned herself so she could watch him make his way to her door and exit without closing it. His footsteps echoed down the corridor and eventually disappeared. Even though he was long gone she remained on the ground and looked around her room. _What did he mean by that?_ Myrna wondered if he spoke the truth. Was he screwing with her head? It would make sense for him to try to win her over emotionally, but that is not something Gregor would do. He was brutally honest like The Hound and did not scheme.

"I have more time now..." Myrna said aloud, trying to forget about her brother. Somehow she had to find Sansa and tell her the plan if the girl was still okay. If not, what will happen then? Suddenly worry washed over her. In the middle of her troubling thoughts something caught her eye. Two shadows came hovering over her. There were people standing outside her door. Myrna looked up at them slowly to see who they were and realized who they were. Her hand turned into a fist.


	12. Chapter 12

In a wave of fury Myrna pushed herself up and ran towards the door, but Baelish wrapped his arms around Myrna and forced her back inside the room.

"You must remain calm, Myrna..." Baelish interrupted and let go of her once she was well inside her bedchamber again.

"No!" Myrna barked back but despite her words she did take a few baby steps backwards and fixed her hair. The handmaiden that abandoned her that morning stood in the middle of the doorway staring at her. "If this woman had only done her job then maybe my nose wouldn't have been smashed against the ground!" she hollered.

Myrna knew her nose was the least of her problems. After yelling, she had felt slightly lighter. Her shoulders relaxed and she peered down at the ground as she rubbed her forehead. Baelish was kind enough to put a hand on her shoulder and speak warmly to her. "I apologize for this morning. I truly do," he told her.

"Why are _you_ apologizing?" Myrna asked as she moved her eyes from the floor and to his face.

"This handmaiden here used to be one of my best girls. She is now using her talents to help me inside the castle walls instead of outside them," he gave a quick glimpse to the woman and she smiled back in an almost alluring manner. That had been the first time Myrna saw her change her expression. "So, technically she still belongs to me but let's keep that between us three," he returned his mischievous gaze to Myrna.

There was only one reason for Baelish to be here, so Myrna did not wait another moment. "I have no idea how to speak with Sansa. Our plan isn't going to work," she said.

It was as if Baelish did not hear the words coming out of her mouth. Instead he smiled, and as he slid his hand off of Myrna's shoulder he walked towards her handmaiden. "Her nose should be checked. Would you please escort her to Maester Pycelle's chambers?" he gave an order and the handmaiden nodded her head as he exited.

"With me, my lady," the handmaiden awaited Myrna near the door where she stood.

When Myrna left her room she saw Baelish hurrying off down the opposite way they were walking. It was unlike him, but Myrna focused on where she was heading now. Not one word was spoken between her and the handmaiden. Myrna kept her arms crossed the entire way, not walking too close or too far from her. It was not too far from her own bedchamber when they stopped and the handmaiden knocked on the door and opened it. She held the door open and waited for Myrna, almost impatiently. A deep sigh came out of Myrna's mouth and she uncrossed her arms while stepping inside the room.

A dry cough came from a back corner, but Myrna could not see who was there and when she turned the handmaiden disappeared and the door gently closed behind her. For a second she stood there not sure what to do and anxiety made her feel paralyzed. A musty smell filled the room and there was dust along the tables that held small and large potions and salves of all colors. Facing inside the room again after finding the motivation to move she saw a bed to her right against the wall and someone was laying down. When she moved in to see who it was she felt a familiar pang of anger and jealousy. Sansa was taken here as well but she was no longer in her wedding gown and was dressed down in a loose beige dress with fluted sleeves. _Baelish knew about this_, Myrna came to the realization as she took a few more steps toward the young lady.

Her eyes were closed. Myrna wondered if it would be alright to wake the girl up. Quietly, she found herself a spot on the bed to sit on but once she did an old man's voice spoke up from the back of the room. The old man that helped Sansa when she fainted was slowly making his way towards them. Pycelle was his name, if Myrna remembered correctly. "Is there, uh, something I can help you with my dear?" he asked with his voice croaking.

"I wanted to make sure Sansa was doing well," Myrna lied. She did not want this old man to touch her face now that she thought about it. Besides, it feels like that was not the true reason Baelish sent her here but it was probably for the best to keep his name out of it.

Pycelle blinked rapidly and slightly groaned as he seemed to be making up his mind on what to say. "I... I am glad you are here, in fact. A meeting was called for the council so if you would please... Just keep that girl company. Be sure not to wake her up if you can. I will send for someone if I cannot make it back on time," he had already begun shuffling towards the door. Myrna feared the man wouldn't even make it out the door, but he did and now she had been left alone with Sansa.

Sitting on the edge of Sansa's bed proved to be very boring. Myrna decided this was a waste of time, but did not know what else to do. She began tracing her finger up and down the bandages on her injured hand. When she saw a tiny knife sitting near some of the potions on a dusty table she considered trying to take the bandages off. Something rustled behind her which cut her train of thought. Sansa's legs moved and Myrna peeked over her shoulder.

"Is he gone?" Sansa pushed herself up, looking wide awake.

Myrna narrowed her eyebrows. "You're not sleeping?" she asked in a surprised tone.

The pretty red haired girl shook her head and eyed the door. "He's not coming back, you think? Baelish said the plan won't work if he decides to come back..." she slowly stopped talking when she saw Myrna grow angry.

"What in seven hells are you talking about? You're not supposed to know anything," Myrna became flustered thinking she was double crossed.

"At breakfast this morning before the wedding I spoke with The Hound and he managed to pass along what you told him one evening," Sansa muttered. "Then Petyr Baelish had a word with me right before the wedding. I knew what I had to do to make the best of my circumstances..."

"Hold on. When you fainted... that was just for show?" Myrna stood up from the bed and it made Sansa sit up straight, alerted by Myrna's reaction.

"Please," Sansa held out her hands. "There must be a reason for both of us to have ended up here so please keep it down. Someone may hear us..." she gently pleaded.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Myrna began pacing around the room feeling angry and confused. "So... all of this was set up!? You pretended to be ill while I get my face bashed in by the Mountain so we can end up here?" Myrna spoke as she thought. _Not fair_, she left that part inside her mind. _Simply not fair. Why must I endure actual pain?_

"I think it will be happening soon," Sansa put strength in her voice so she would get across to Myrna. "Also, I am sorry about your face..." she sounded sincere.

"You mean us being taken away?" Myrna let her arms fall to her side and she faced Sansa. "You truly think so?"

Sansa swung her legs off the edge of the bed and smoothed out the wrinkles in the skirt of her dress from lying down. "Why else would Baelish have set this up?" she asked.

"That would make sense," she felt more hopeful now and the two of them had nothing else to say.

Soon the quiet in the room became awkward. Sansa held her hands on her lap like a lady but her eyes wandered around the room. Myrna crossed her arms again and paced slowly around. She eyed the knife again, and went to pick it up but put it back down when she saw Sansa gulp. Underneath her bandages her skin was becoming itchy. Taking the bandages off sounded wonderful but she wanted to wait until she was sure it was healed. Then she walked towards the window where the sunlight was filtered through muck on the window. It had not been washed in ages.

"What else did you two talk about?" Myrna abruptly asked, not enjoying the silence.

The girl paused before answering. "Me and who?"

"You and... The Hound," she elaborated.

"Honestly... that's all we talked about," Sansa answered.

Myrna wanted to ask more, but a noise from outside the walls kept her mouth closed. In the distance the sound of bells ringing echoed throughout the city. Myrna and Sansa stared at one another. Her green eyes were filled with fear. When the bells rung that was never good news for the people inside Kings Landing. A clash of footsteps suddenly came down the hallway but went past the room they were in. Knights were in a rush to get somewhere, and when Myrna decided to try to go out and see Sansa made a fuss. "No! Keep the door closed," she ordered but Myrna did not listen. She cracked the door open and peeked out but nothing was to be seen. Literally nothing. Every knight that had been posted inside the corridor was gone.

"No one is out there," Myrna told Sansa as she continued to peer out. "No, wait..."

There was movement down on one end of the corridor, she noticed right after she spoke. It was too far to see what it was, but as it grew closer she saw it looked like a person but they were draped in black. Sansa was speaking behind her, but Myrna was too busy trying to figure out who this was. They looked ominous, and their speed seemed to quicken as they drew nearer. Sharply she slammed the door and locked it. When she twirled around to look at Sansa she saw the girl went from afraid to terrified. "What is out there?" she stammered.

"We need to keep quiet," Myrna whispered and she gently grabbed the girl's arm and pulled her towards the back of the room. Before they even made it to the back wall three loud booming knocks came from outside the door. They faced the door and kept walking back until they both were pushing their backs against a cold wall. Another three knocks banged against the door, and she felt Sansa jump as they were now holding onto one another. Their eyes were locked on the old door, afraid of what lied on the other side.

In the corner of her eye she saw Sansa turn her face towards her and leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Could it be Baelish? What did he look like?"

"This guy was wearing a black cloak. Couldn't see a thing," Myrna whispered back.

The sound of their ragged breathing was the only thing Myrna could hear as they tried to figure out what to do. A few minutes went by and she noticed Sansa growing anxious. "Perhaps it is him and we are missing our way out of here. He hasn't knocked, maybe he left?" Sansa suggested.

They both froze when the loud knocks returned but this time a voice came from the other side. "I know you are in there ladies. I was sent for you," the man shouted.

"That's not Baelish," Myrna noted quietly.

Sansa continued to look at Myrna. "He must of sent this man. We should go. Shouldn't we?" she sounded unsure now.

The voice bothered her. It was slightly familiar, or at least she thought it was. When she tried to match the man's voice with a face she could not do it. As much as this felt like a bad idea, they really had no choice. Somehow Myrna had to get out there and find The Hound. If this man's words were true, he should lead them to him. "What other choice do we have?" Myrna replied.

"You go first," Sansa stammered and swallowed nervously.

Agitated, Myrna agreed with her and began walking towards the door. When she approached the door it was hard for her to reach the door handle. Fear was holding her back but she willed her way through it and turned the door handle slightly. From behind she heard Sansa take in a deep breath. When the door was a crack open, fingers inside black leather gloves squeezed their way inside and grabbed a hold of the door. The door knob was ripped out of Myrna's hands as the door was forced open and the man completely concealed in a dark cloak was now in front of them. An overwhelming feeling of uneasiness made her legs go weak. Not only were they staring at the man, but he stared back with no eyes they could see because of the hood. Despite not being able to see his face Myrna felt all the attention was on her. She squeezed her hands into a fist to stop her fingers from trembling.

"Where are we going?" Sansa weakly but successfully broke the tension between the three of them.

The man waved his arm and hastily began speed walking down the corridor. They followed behind from a distance, and surprisingly they had left the apartments section with ease. Every single knight in the area was not at his post. The bells were still singing throughout the city. Every clang of the bells gave her the chills, mostly because of the unknown. Myrna hated being in the dark about what was happening. When she would check on Sansa she saw the same uncertainty on the girl's face. Something told her she should not question this man so she followed her instinct.

The way they were going was familiar to Myrna. She had just been here a few nights prior. Before them the man was leading them to one of the smaller towers in the Red Keep. _The entrance to the dungeons_, Myrna felt herself come alive. They were going to free The Hound. Both Sansa and her waited as the man fumbled with some keys and managed to unlock the entrance door. As he walked in, Myrna made her way past him and went on ahead. "I know where he is," she called back to them. When she turned her head to talk to the cloaked man, he paused for a second as if he took what she did as a slight. Ignoring him for now, Myrna quickened her pace and went to the end of the room.

When she approached the last cell she grabbed the rusty bars and peered in. "Sandor?" Myrna spoke to the darkness.

There was a grumble, then a silhouette moved in the darkness and came out. Sandor still looked the same from earlier that day; the swelling had gone down in his face but he still looked rough. He had not been in his cell for long this time and the place did not seem to have put any affect on him yet. Before he said anything he noticed something behind her. Myrna looked back and saw the cloaked man jingle the keys again and tried to figure out which one was for his cell. Sansa stayed back, not knowing where her place was.

"We're getting you out. It's time," she told Sandor.

He looked puzzled, and kept a cautious eye on the cloaked man. "Who's this whelp?" he rasped.

The man stopped looking at the keys on the ring and it almost seemed he gave a warning glance to The Hound. "Sandor, please!" Myrna scolded. "He's the one getting us out of here," she continued.

"Well hurry the fuck up. I don't like the sound of those bells," he muttered. "What's going on out there anyway?"

"We don't know," Sansa joined in meekly. The man helping them had gone back to finding the right key and at last he found the one that fit. The jail cell screeched as the door swung open, and The Hound eagerly walked out and gave a look back in the cell as if glad he would never go back in there. Part of Myrna wanted to embrace him, but it did not seem to be the appropriate time. Besides, he reeked of the cell. "Now where to?" Sansa asked the man after he put the keys away.

"A secret passage. People wait for us near the Blackwater Bay," the cloaked man spoke, but his voice was coarse as if he were disguising his real voice.

The Hound looked him down. "You mean the rumored ones down there?" he gestured towards the stairs that led down deeper into the dungeons. The man nodded. "Seven bloody hells... I'm not going down _there_," he cursed and paced away from the stairs until Myrna yelled at him.

"We have no choice! Why are you acting like a child?" she shouted at him.

"I'd rather cut through everyone at one of the gates outside the Keep than crawl through a pitch black hole in the ground. I probably won't even bloody fit," The Hound said.

Sansa made her way next to Myrna and look at The Hound. "You say you'll cut through people, but with what?" she argued.

"You have no weapons here. There's no point in fighting," Myrna agreed.

The Hound boomed with laughter and it echoed in the chilled, dark room. "You two are ganging up on me now? That's sweet," his smile slowly disappeared and he looked at the steps. He sighed. "Fuck. Let's get this over with," he marched towards the steps and the cloaked man went down first, followed by The Hound.

"Ready?" Sansa asked Myrna.

Myrna nodded, and the girls went down the steps side by side. It nearly was pitch black, like The Hound said. They took their time step by step so they would not hurt themselves. The steps were slimy, and at one step Myrna felt her foot go out from under her. Before she could fall, Sansa grabbed her arm and helped her back up. "The fuck is going on back there?" they heard The Hound's voice call from below them.

"We're fine. Just wait for us please," Sansa replied and from that point Sansa and her locked arms as they continued all the way down.

"Thanks," Myrna whispered.

"It's no problem... I just can't wait to go back home," Sansa whispered back.

Guilt overwhelmed Myrna. Baelish came to her mind, and his desire for Sansa. Her promise to him made her feel like an awful person. Myrna held onto Sansa tighter but the girl did not seem to notice. When they finally made it to the bottom of the stairs there was a single torch on the wall and the cloaked man went to grab for it. The Hound subtly made his distance. The four of them quietly made their way through a narrow, damp, and dark passage. They passed a few chances to turn down into another dark passage. What bothered Myrna the most was the stench. It was the stench of the dead. After awhile Sansa put her free hand up to cover her nose but Myrna knew that probably did not help much. It did not seem to bother The Hound. He stayed focused, and stared straight ahead past the cloaked man.

A cackling noise came from ahead, but whatever was there was too covered in darkness to see. Myrna froze, and Sansa did as well. In the corner of her eye she saw The Hound reach for his belt but remembered he had no weapon on him. The cloaked man continued on ahead and from the shadows unveiled a scrawny man. He wore no shirt and his ribs were visible. The man looked like he barely ate in weeks. Instead of asking for help, he rose the sword he held in his hand and yowled as he ran towards the cloaked man. Everything happened so quick. With his free hand, the cloaked man grabbed the scrawny man's wrist and twisted so the man was forced to drop the sword. Then he dropped the torch so he could grab something off of him and thrusted something into the man's stomach. Blood splurted out of his mouth, and he was gently lowered to the ground.

The Hound went ahead of them and inspected the man as the one helping them picked the torch back up and continued walking. With a deep breath, Myrna and Sansa approached the dead man on the ground and walked around him as The Hound stole the sword he was using. "A prisoner that was somehow set free," The Hound remarked.

"Will there be more?" Sansa asked with fear in her voice.

"If there are, I can protect you two now," he tucked the sword away onto his belt and they continued to follow the light from the torch that was ahead of them.

For a second Myrna thought they lost the man helping them. The light disappeared, but once they walked further down they saw he had finally crept into one of the smaller passages on their right side. Cursing, The Hound had to bend his knees and keep his head down as they entered the small passage. The ground was made of a bunch of tiny rocks and their footsteps made crunching sounds. A few times Myrna and Sansa almost tripped because of the uneven surface. Any amount of time in this passage would be annoying.

"Will this ever end?" Sansa asked after what felt like an hour had gone by.

"I don't want to hear you two little northern birds complain. My bloody back is killing me," The Hound said between heavy breathes as he stood nearly at head level with them. If Myrna were a few inches taller she would be ducking, too. The ceiling was right above her head and Sansa nearly touched it as she was slightly taller than Myrna. If she thought about it too much she felt her chest start to tighten up.

"I'm just glad we were able to break out of here before we were forced to marry," Myrna changed the subject.

She thought she saw Sansa peek at The Hound after that comment but she blinked her eyes and looked ahead. The Hound had nothing to add to that. Feeling stupid, Myrna decided to keep her mouth shut.

Finally, a brighter light appeared from the end of the passage. "Is that what I think it is?" Sansa sighed.

"About fucking time," The Hound grumbled.

The three of them hastened their pace. It really was what they thought it was; their exit out of the dirty, dark dungeon was just a few meters away. When they approached the hole The Hound was the first one out. He sat down and slid his rear off the edge. After inspecting the area quickly he turned around and reached up for one of them. Myrna let Sansa down first, trying not to make her jealousy too obvious when she saw The Hound carry Sansa down. Then she sat down and reached for him, and he grabbed her by the waist and put her on her feet gently.

Sunlight made Myrna's eyes hurt but at the same time she felt so relieved to be out of the tunnels and outside the Red Keep. The bells were ringing louder now that they were outside of the walls. A cool breeze made the tiny hair on her arms stand up and Sansa made a remark on how much better she felt now. The man leading them out of here was right, and she saw that he was waiting for them along the outside of the Red Keep's wall. They were right by the Blackwater Bay, and among the shore there were parts of ships being washed up. When Myrna looked at The Hound he still seemed uneasy being here. She approached him and tried to touch his arm but he nudged away and continued to follow the cloaked man. She frowned, and decided to do the same.

At a distance along the bay she noticed one of the main gates to the city. At first Myrna thought they were walking straight toward the gate but the man stopped at a wagon that was left along the wall. Something moved in the back, and Myrna realized there were people inside.

A familiar face came jumping out the back of the wagon. Myrna felt herself smile even though she was confused. "You made it back!" her lovely Dornish accent was like music to her ears. Brenda was smiling at all of them, but the first person she welcomed back was not who she expected. Myrna watched as she hugged the cloaked man, and he held her. Somehow Myrna felt as if she had seen this before.

The Hound marched next to Myrna and leaned in so she could hear him. "Did you know she was going to be here?" he angrily asked. He really did not trust Brenda anymore, it seemed.

"No," Myrna said sounding distracted. Her eyes were locked on Brenda and the man who helped them. Then Brenda pulled his cloak down so she could give him a kiss. He had curly black hair down to his shoulders, and when she saw his face Myrna felt the life slip out of her. The world went spinning around her, and she saw the ground come up to her.

The Hound caught her before she fell to the dirt, and she began hyperventilating. In the background she could hear Sansa sounding worried. "What's wrong?" he demanded. Myrna turned herself and clutched onto his shoulder, burying her face into his neck. "Tell me," The Hound gave her a squeeze.

"That man was Nicholas...my _brother_," she choked out.


	13. Chapter 13

In the cramped corner of the wagon Myrna peered through the cracks of the rough wood. The sun was still high in the sky and the gate had been long gone, but she still looked south to where Kings Landing was. Now it was a tiny city and in another few bumpy hills it would be gone from view. The stench of it had disappeared thankfully. The attack she had earlier that day made her breathe in that filthy air more than she had wanted. There was still a tightness in her chest, and she refused to look at the other end of the wagon.

Below them the wheels of the wagon groaned. At times it became too bumpy for her and she had to hold onto the side of the wagon so she would not bang into it. Only an hour into this journey and her body began to ache. Soon they entered a tiny village, the first since the capital. Around them were wattle and daub huts that were huddled together. It did not appear too lively but she watched a few children who seemed to be siblings play with one another. Her eyes lingered on them until she felt a touch on her shoulder.

To turn her head the opposite direction was like twisting a stubborn top off a jar. Next to her she saw a wineskin being offered to her from The Hound except it was filled with water instead of wine. He liked to complain about that even though he had only had it for a short while. Brenda had showed them the supplies they had gathered for their trip and there were a few wineskins given out amongst them. Myrna accepted it and took a swig, and in the middle of swallowing she allowed her eyes to go past The Hound and towards Nicholas in the back corner. He had her same dark eyes and he was watching them as Brenda sat above him and steered the horse. As soon as she felt her heart begin to race again she stopped drinking and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. The Hound took back the wineskin and gave Nicholas a hard stare after he noticed Myrna taking a peek at her brother.

"Are we going to be on this wagon the entire way North?" Sansa asked Nicholas politely, as she was completely ignorant of the past between him and Myrna.

Everyone gave Sansa a quick glance since no one had spoken much since they all gathered onto the wagon inside the city. The girl was sitting with her legs tucked in underneath her and across from Myrna. She, too, also watched the city disappear. Myrna could see a tiny smile on the girls face once they exited the gate. Next to her was Arya, and Myrna was still in disbelief. Once they had climbed onto the wagon after Myrna's panic attack they saw that Arya had been with Brenda all along. Watching the Stark sisters reunite helped her pull through.

"We must make a stop inside Duskendale first," Nicholas calmly replied and did not elaborate further.

_Is that where we are meeting Baelish?_ Myrna wondered. Her brother had to know about the trade. Their freedom in return for Sansa Stark was the deal. Nicholas was never part of the deal, though. Somehow, her brother and Baelish had come to be acquainted with one another and that was a troubling thought. How much did Baelish truly know about her now?

Brenda pulled over to the side of the road and stood up to stretch once they were at a complete stop. "If anyone needs to take a piss, you should do that now," she yelled back at them.

The Hound pushed himself up and when he jumped off the end of the wagon it bounced. When he left Myrna felt unsafe. Something made her look at Nicholas again and she met his eyes once more. He was so quiet and his stare was cold. Arya noticed. "You two alright?" she asked cautiously. Arya knew a little about Nicholas thanks to the fight Myrna had with Brenda.

"I'm just fine," Myrna snapped back and threw her legs off the end of the wagon before pushing herself off. From being careless Myrna gave herself a splinter when she jumped off and she winced. The bandages on her other hand prevented her from being able to pick it out. Despite the tiny wound in her hand she felt great to stand and let her blood circulate easily through her bottom and legs. She stared at her hand as she made her way into the woods where she saw The Hound go. The grass under her feet was soft and when she entered the woods she scanned the area to find The Hound. Not too far in she saw him facing a tree and she went to lean against another tree while she waited for him to finish. When he turned around while still lacing the front of his pants he gawked at her.

"Spying on me now?" he japed. When she did not respond to that and gave a look back at the wagon through the trees he sighed. "You wanted your chance to kill him. Now you have it," The Hound told her as they watched Nicholas speak with Brenda as she jumped off the wagon to enter the woods herself.

Sadly, she shook her head. "I... I can't do it..." she muttered.

The Hound marched to her side and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her off the tree. "He killed your parents and he gave you that scar on your back. You know how fucking happy I would be if I were in your shoes right now?" he asked and then he made a gesture with the blade he has received from the dungeon's with his free hand. "A blade in my hand, and my brother a few feet from me..." he spoke as if he dreamed of that moment.

"When I see him everything stops..." Myrna felt her eyes get glassy. "I can't breathe. Everything gets all fuzzy. I can't..." she looked down at her feet and a tear rolled down her cheek.

Once her sobs began to grow a little louder he let go of her shoulder and grabbed her jaw to force her to look up at him. "Quiet, now..." he rasped. "I'll make sure he doesn't get too close until the day comes where you find your sense to kill him again. Do you understand me?" he squeezed but not enough for it to hurt. "I know you understand me... I _know_ you do..." his voice grew softer and he let go of her face.

"I have to tell you something. It's very important," Myrna wiped away her tears and looked up at him on her own.

He grew serious. "I'm listening," he told her.

She took in a deep breath. "You know that deal I made with Baelish so all of this could happen?" she asked. The Hound nodded. "There was a price," she explained.

"What was the price?" he sounded troubled.

Myrna paused. "Sansa," she answered.

The Hound gave her a blank stare. Myrna was unsure of how he was feeling. "The little bird? You're giving her away to that worm so we could go and live happily in the bloody North?" his voice trembled.

"No, no... I mean, I told him I would convince Sansa to leave with me and I would in the end give her to him but I don't mean to do it. I swear. I just don't know how to do this. I believe Nicholas is in on this," Myrna made herself sound as genuine as she could. Truly, she did not want to give up Sansa.

"Good," The Hound barked at her. "All the more reason to kill him," he tried giving his sword to Myrna but she did not take it. They stared at one another until he groaned and put the sword back on his hip.

"We can't let this happen. I'm sure Duskendale is where it is happening. Remember what he said before? We have to make a stop in Duskendale," Myrna said and noticed how annoyed The Hound was acting. He glanced back at the wagon and shifted his weight between his feet. In a way she was glad he being more supportive than anything. She must of looked like an idiot to him right now. All this way and every time her brother was brought up all she would think about was how she would kill him right where he stood. Now Myrna could barely stand when she saw him. What was wrong with her?

The Hound touched her back so she would follow him back towards the wagon. Myrna blushed but did her best to hide that. "We won't let anyone take the little bird. I'll keep my blade close," he rasped.

Everyone gathered together after their little break and they had left on their way towards Duskendale. It was too quiet between the lot of them, but Myrna did not even try to lighten the mood. Too much was on her mind and she noticed The Hound was more serious now. He kept his hand on the hilt of his sword and created a barrier between the girls and Nicholas with his body. Next to Myrna he sat with his legs stretched out, and he nearly touched the other end where Arya was sitting and Sansa was next to her.

The sky turned orange in the west, and a wall of clouds over the sunset were a pink hue. Duskendale was not too far north of Kings Landing and every mile they went by made Myrna more nervous. When everything was passing them at a slower pace Myrna looked ahead and saw a party was in their way. A few men holding crossbows aimed at their wagon and Brenda made the horse come to a complete stop and the agitated horse let out a neigh. Nicholas turned his body and stood up. A small laugh from him made Myrna feel chills. "They're early," he said aloud.

"Who's early?" Arya questioned him but he did not respond.

The Hound stood up as well and drew his blade. "The little she-wolf asked a question," he aimed his threat towards Nicholas and did nothing when Myrna tugged on his pants from where she was sitting.

"Don't do it this way," Myrna whispered but Sansa and Arya seemed to be the only ones that were listening to her from the way they reacted.

The men with the crossbows were now split up into two groups and were on either side of the wagon. "Drop the sword, Clegane," a familiar voice hollered.

Baelish revealed himself from the small crowd. He wore a cloak similar to the one Nicholas was wearing but he kept his hood down. He wore a tight smile as he glanced at Sansa. The Hound gave one good look around him as if he were studying each face of the men who aimed arrows at him before throwing the sword down loudly.

When Myrna pushed herself up and sat on her knees to peer over the edge of the wagon Baelish caught sight of her and now gave her his attention. "Ah, Myrna. I need to thank you again for everything you have done," he exclaimed.

"What is he talking about?" Arya asked everyone in the wagon though no one paid her any heed.

"Sansa Stark. You may come with me now. Your aunt in the Eyrie is waiting," Baelish called out to her as he walked toward the back of the wagon. His eyes also fixed on the other Stark girl. "Arya Stark? What a wonderful surprise. You may come with your sister if you wish," he almost sounded kind.

Myrna felt guilt completely overwhelm her as she watched Sansa become frustrated and confused. "What do you mean? I am going North. I am going _home_," she turned pink as she tried to talk some sense into Baelish. Her dream was being ripped away from her at that moment.

"We're not going with you. We're staying with Myrna and her family," Arya backed up her sister and grabbed her arm as if she physically keep her from Baelish.

Baelish glanced over at Myrna and she knew what that meant. "Then tell me why you gave me permission to take them away if you intended on keeping them for yourself? This was not part of our deal, Myrna Beaumont..." his words chilled her to the bone and in the next moment she felt the eyes of the Stark girls on her.

"What deal?" Sansa stammered.

"Nicholas, I have waited long enough..." Baelish's voice grew irritated.

From the front of the wagon Myrna heard loud footsteps come at them and Nicholas bent over to throw Arya off her sister and he roughly grabbed Sansa by her elbow. When the girl cried out The Hound took a step towards Nicholas but reminded himself of the arrows being pointed at him. Myrna watched him ball his hands into fists and angrily glare at Nicholas as he continued to be rough with Sansa. Her red hair was now wild, and some was sticking to her face from the tears. Through her hair Myrna saw green eyes peeking through that were once again filled with such despair. There was more there now. Anger. "I'm so sorry..." Myrna whispered softly but she doubted Sansa could hear over her screams.

Finally Nicholas struggled enough towards the back of the wagon with Sansa and jumped off with her in his arms. Arya began following him with such a sorrowful expression but then she was held back by Brenda. "What are you doing? He said I could go!" Arya tried to rebel but Brenda stared straight ahead at Nicholas with Arya tight in her arms.

The Hound noticed and then gave a cautious stare at Nicholas. Before he handed over the weeping red haired beauty, he reached into his pocket and pulled something out. Baelish spotted and before he could react Nicholas threw a pouch full of some sort of powder right in Baelish's face. The area they were in was shrouded in smoke and Baelish began wheezing and coughing and hollering. Nicholas whirled around to reveal a blade being held against Sansa Stark's neck, and the girl continued to wail even louder now.

"Do not harm the girl!" Baelish managed to holler between his coughing fit.

The archers took their aim away from The Hound and now focused on Nicholas but released no arrows on Baelish's command. "We will be leaving now, Petyr Baelish... and the only way we will leave Sansa Stark behind is if I slit her pretty throat open and let her bleed out right here," he threatened as the dust began to clear away and Baelish stared at Nicholas with red, puffy eyes. Baelish was furious but did not want any harm to come to Sansa Stark. Nicholas peered over his shoulder to see the archer's still holding their arrows but when Baelish raised his arm they put their bows down. Backwards, Nicholas made his way back to the wagon and Brenda let go of Arya to help him up, so he would not have to pull away a hand that threatened the girl's life. Sansa was now quieter, but she was still in shock and every now and then had a hiccup from crying so much. The blade at her throat remained and she was ever obedient to go wherever Nicholas made her go.

Myrna was stunned. Nothing could have expected her to witness this. The Hound had already picked up his rusty sword once the archer's had taken their attention elsewhere but stood aside when Nicholas was making his way to the front of the wagon but now with Sansa in his arms. Brenda hopped back to the seat in front and gave the command to the horse to start trotting again. Slowly, The Hound sat down next to Myrna but kept his eye on Nicholas. When Myrna sat down she peered through the cracks again and saw Baelish swipe a wineskin from a fellow party member and poured something in a cupped hand and splashed it on his face. Once they were too far to see, Nicholas pushed Sansa aside and Arya crawled towards her sister to check up on her.

"That went exactly as planned," Brenda yelled back at Nicholas happily.

For the first time she saw Nicholas break a genuine smile. He did not reply, but instead stood up and with the end of his cloak he cleaned off his blade as best he could while taking small steps towards the back of the wagon. The Hound made a threatening gesture when he saw Nicholas was making his way toward Myrna.

The two of them stared at one another. Nicholas' smile vanished and he looked to Myrna. "Sister, if I may give you something..."

"No," Myrna said sharply.

He knelt down, even though he was out of reach to give her anything. He rested the blade in his hand and Myrna felt her skin crawl. "My dagger?" she gasped.

"I retrieved it from the knight they gave it to at the capital. This blade is only meant for the most beautiful woman of the North. My dear sister, please accept this back on your own terms..." he softly charmed her and gently placed it on the ground of the wagon and returned to where he was sitting before.

The dagger bounced around from the wagon's movement and the light from the sunset at times would shine just right so the etched oak tree would reveal itself on the steel. Myrna stared at it longingly. Everyone grew relaxed despite all of the drama that happened to them, but mostly because The Hound offered to keep watch while the others caught up on some sleep. He did not trust Nicholas at all from her perspective, and would probably have trouble sleeping anytime soon. At least, that's how Myrna felt and she was sure The Hound felt the same as she did.

Sansa and Arya were huddled together now farther away from Nicholas and they were napping. The sister's were quiet and paid little attention to the rest of the people on the wagon, and rightfully so. Nicholas also had his eyes closed as he rested against where Brenda sat. The moment felt right, and she silently scooted closer to the dagger ignoring any look The Hound might give her. When the hilt was on her hands it reminded her of better days. Quickly she returned to where she was sitting while examining the dagger. Then she looked at her bandaged hand and slid the edge of the dagger over the cloth. After she placed her dagger on her lap and peeled off the cloth. Her skin was pale and damp underneath, but it was relieved to breathe again. It was nowhere near as bad as she had assumed it was. Perhaps there would not even be a scar.

"You're lucky," The Hound had been watching her.

After engaging in a gaze with him, she pulled her eyes away and looked at her blade again. Dark brown eyes looked back at her from the reflection. At first she had thought of Nicholas, and then she thought about what he said. The most beautiful woman of the North... could not be her. Not after what he had done to her.


	14. Chapter 14

Earlier that day everyone was taking a break from the wagon ride and minded their own business that sunny afternoon. A few days before they had encountered Baelish and so far successfully avoided him. Brenda gave Myrna a pile of clothes that were more comfortable than the dress she had on at the capital but without a word or a glance. Now she wore red cotton breeches that had a pocket big enough for her dagger and a brown cotton tunic that had a loose fit. There was even a comb for her to brush her long black locks with.

In the middle of her combing out the snarls in her hair as she sat on the edge of the wagon she looked around their small group out of curiosity. Nicholas and Brenda would display affection in front of everyone from time to time, and Sansa and Arya would stay close together as if to make up all the time they had spent apart. Often they would quietly gossip and Myrna worried they might have been talking about her. The four of them acted indifferent around Myrna. Sansa especially, but she was the only one with good reason. Sandor kept a wary eye on Nicholas and Brenda, not wanting to have them leave his sight for a minute. Myrna saw him relaxing against a trunk of a tree while snacking on some berries as he watched.

A break was needed from it all. After combing her hair she threw the comb into an open sack on the wagon and slid off the wagon to explore. Myrna was attracted to this nearby location, or maybe she just picked a random direction to wander off to but when walking upon it she discovered this amazing view that she now stood in. The Crownlands were more beautiful than she remembered from her earlier travels with her childhood friend, but soon they will pass by these lands and the North will greet them with a dry, dead climate. Then she wondered what Nicholas truly had planned to happen in the North. It was not like she was about to walk up to him and ask anytime soon, but she needed to know somehow. Perhaps Brenda could speak with her when she wasn't busy putting her tongue in his mouth or just completely ignoring her presence.

"Beautiful, just like you…" she heard come from behind.

Myrna whirled around and tried to hide any fear she felt as Nicholas approached her with a smile on his face. What timing he had, to appear as she thought about how she planned on avoiding him. A memory suddenly popped into her head; she remembered the way he had tear stricken cheeks as he stood over the burning corpses of their parents. The Nicholas she saw before her looked so similar yet so different.

She watched as he paced next to her and stopped to gaze out at the field. His thick, dark curls were piled around his head and he was in need of a haircut. He used to be so neat, back when mother was alive to scold him for allowing his hair to become so wild. _Nicholas the wildling boy_, their mother would jape. Now she was gone, and their father… There was no way she could be friendly with him. No way in the Seven hells. Myrna found some bravery that was still left in her. "What do you want?" she quipped.

"I need you to be my sister again," he said almost sincerely.

"Don't you dare think you can talk to me that way," Myrna spat at him while taking a step forward and he took a step back in shock. In a fury she continued to approach him slowly and he kept his distance by walking backwards. "Eight years ago, Nicholas! Do you not remember what you did eight years ago? The damage you did to everyone we loved? You might as well have killed me instead of letting me suffer this hell!"

Nicholas bit his lip and spoke up. "Sister, you do not know the whole story…"

"A story? Oh, a _story_! As if that will justify what you did!" Myrna screamed at his face and once she quieted down she moved in even _closer _and was an inch away from her brother's face. He refused to look at her but she could feel his quickened breath brush against her face. "I would rather be a Clegane than share the name Beaumont with the likes of you," she whispered harshly.

That hit a nerve and his eyes met hers. Their dark eyes looked deep into the other for what seemed like forever. Suddenly he grabbed for her neck and squeezed. It came as a surprise to Myrna and she gasped as she tried to claw his hands off of her. "I should have killed you, you say?" he continued to squeeze as Myrna attempted to gasp for air. "Do you still believe that?" he sounded disturbingly calm. Myrna had no choice but to shake her head and at last he released and air filled her lungs as she collapsed onto her knees. "The Mountain would never have shown you this mercy!"

Noisily, Myrna breathed in air and rubbed her throat. When she glanced up at Nicholas he returned her glare. "You bastard…" she threw one final insult at him.

Nicholas squatted down so he could be closer to her. His facial expression changed. A small smile formed on his lips. "Everything I do, sister…" he reached out to her and played with a curl resting on her shoulder, "…is for you," he softly told her.

Quickly she smacked his hand away and stared at him in disbelief. He giggled, and stood back up and made his way back to the wagon with such a confidence that made Myrna feel like she was hopeless against him.

It was quiet where she sat, now that her insane brother had left. Myrna adjusted herself so she could hug her knees close to her chest and she was deep in thought. Back when she was at the capital she remembered a conversation she had with the Mountain. He had told her how she should have been grateful he reached her first. That somehow her brother had become a changed man, a _worse_ man than himself. Is that even possible? Could what he had said been true? Would Myrna have truly been safer with the mad dog? Now she was starting to wonder if she had made the right decision.

Part of her just wanted to remain here. Everyone back at camp seemed like an enemy to her now. Nicholas, Brenda, Arya, Sansa… Why should she even stay? They all dislike her in some way. Nicholas… Nicholas was obvious. Brenda is still in love with him, so Myrna has to be safe and say she would choose Nicholas over her. Myrna betrayed Sansa and even though everything worked out it doesn't change the fact she would have let her leave with Baelish. Arya is her younger sister and would side with her. "I can't be around them any longer…" she muttered to herself and hastily stood up and began walking further into the field, going at a slight downward slope. Fresh grass brushed against her ankles and her open palms would gently brush the tips of the grass blades. The humid air filled her lungs as she looked ahead toward the rolling hills in the distance.

"The fuck are you headed!?" she heard a voice call out from the top of the hill where she sat.

Myrna peered back and saw Sandor looking troubled as he watched her, his brown hair flying up occasionally and revealing his burn as he followed her down. The grass around them did not seem so tall compared to him. He caught up with her but she turned around stubbornly and continued to make her way to nowhere. He asked her the same question again except this time he pulled her back roughly but she hid that it hurt.

"Why do you need to know?" Myrna barked back at him.

He gave her a concerned look. "There are people who are a danger to you out there. You are smart enough to know it's not a good idea to be alone," he reminded her. After letting out a disgusted noise, Sandor grabbed her shoulder. "I can't do shit to save you when you're out there all by yourself," he gave a gesture out to the hills she was walking towards.

"You can't do shit when you're _here_!" Myrna accused him and Sandor removed his hand from her. "What happened when the Brotherhood found us? What happened when Gregor found us? You were of absolute no use! They caught you right along with me and it was up to _me_ both times to save our sorry asses!" she screamed.

Sandor looked down to the ground. _What have I done?_ Myrna thought as she watched him tighten his mouth and slightly nod. He turned around and walked back up the hill without a word. As she watched him pace up the hill she felt her chest grew heavy and her eyes watered. She choked back a sob but could not keep it down. The water in her eyes poured down and she turned back to face the clouds strolling over the green hills so he would not see. Her whole body felt heavy now and she made her way down into the tall grass and felt hidden enough around the green blades to comfortably let the sobs grow louder. The sadness she felt connected with every sadness she had ever felt in her life. The death of her parents, the death of her childhood friend Desmond, and everyone else she had lost all whirled in her mind along with the current situation she was in. Soon she began to lose the point in everything and looked down at her blade that had fallen out of her pocket when she sat down. Myrna slid her pale fingers over the flat end, and went to pick it up. With her other hand she made her palm face the sky and stared at her wrist longingly. At once a hand grabbed hers and made her drop the dagger.

"Seven hells! I am not leaving you alone ever again," Sandor growled as he used his other hand to confiscate her dagger and he put it away on himself.

Myrna struggled to be released from his grasp but the man who swiftly returned to her held on too tight. In fact, he pulled her in and onto his lap. Defeated, she continued to sob.

"I'm so sorry," she blurted out and he only responded by raising his hand to place it on top of her head. Myrna had to keep letting everything out. "He… hurt me," she managed to say through her tears.

"Nicholas?" Sandor asked as if he already knew the answer. "What did he do to you?" he added while straightening her up.

It was a struggle for Myrna to speak through her sobs, but she focused on her breathing for a minute before answering in order to calm herself. "Nicholas, he… He grabbed my throat when I was on top of that hill," she whimpered.

She felt Sandor's large hand push her hair aside and adjust her so he could look at her neck. The look in his eyes proved Nicholas had managed to leave marks. He removed his hand and let her dark curls fall back into place and held her tighter. "That fucking cunt, I knew I should have followed him sooner when he went off somewhere," he sounded regretful. "I don't want you alone ever from now on. Do you understand me? I go everywhere with you," he ordered.

"Why?" Myrna asked with an empty tone.

He paused for a moment before answering. "For your safety," he replied.

"Why do you care about my safety?" Myrna questioned.

An agitated noise came from the man. "I don't bloody know," was the best comeback he could think of.

They sat like that for some time. It was so quiet and she did not want to disturb the peace she suddenly felt. How could such an enraged man make her feel serene? Perhaps she had found someone who could truly be there for her. Even more so than anyone in her past. A temper was something she could handle, and Myrna believed his tantrums would be less frequent once they found a place to settle. Myrna suddenly found herself wanting to ask him more questions about himself and what plans he had. She wanted to know this man inside and out, and hear what troubles him when he finds himself overthinking. He deserved the comfort he offered to her returned back to him.

"I've killed people nearly my whole life," Sandor began and Myrna perked her head up. "Sometimes it was just for entertainment, especially under that cunt Joffrey. But most of the time it was to protect," he explained.

Myrna rested her head against his chest. The breastplate was cool against her cheek. "So it's just in you to protect and serve? That's all?" Myrna wanted to confirm, feeling dumb for her thoughts.

He let out a hoarse chuckle. "Maybe you are stupid. Take a look at us," he mocked her but in a warm way. It made her smile.

A noise alerted them from behind, and both turned their heads at the same time to look at who was there.

"Ew…" Arya wrinkled her nose at them.

Myrna gasped and roughly pushed herself off Sandor and looked around like nothing had happened while playing with her hair. Sandor did the same thing and brushed himself off and then rubbed his head.

"Don't you have anything better to do than spy on us!?" he growled at the young girl.

"Nicholas sent me. We have to get back on the road," she said while eyeing them before going back to where they had parked the wagon.

An awkward silence was now between her and Sandor. Myrna watched Arya disappear over the hill and dreaded going back up there. Just hearing her brother's name made her feel ill. That must have been obvious to see on her face as Sandor warmed up again and went to stand near her. "You stay close," he reminded her softly.

After finding the courage to walk back up, she went to grab onto Sandor's bicep and nodded while peering up at him. Myrna by now was accustomed to the ruins on his face, and the way he looked back at her showed he appreciated that. They carved their way through the overgrown grass and to the top of the hill side by side. _I'll continue to face them, if you're here…_ Myrna promised silently.


	15. Chapter 15

"Soon we reach the Red Fork, my love…" Nicholas informed Brenda as he leaned over to give her a kiss on the cheek. The horse's reins were in her hands and she gazed ahead with a nod of acknowledgement. Nicholas seemed disappointed with her reaction and jumped out of the cart and onto the wooden seat in front next to Brenda. They engaged in a hush conversation that Myrna's ears could not pick up. She was not interested anyway.

If Myrna could describe the mood on the wagon it would be sleepy. Perhaps agitated… or both. Myrna was sure everyone's bottoms were as sore as hers was. Soon the beautiful Riverland scenery around her became rather boring. Tree after tree, and an occasional hill. The breeze coming off of the Bay of Crabs was pleasant but time went by awfully slow.

A bounce in the cart made everyone look at Nicholas after he jumped back in. Ignoring the eyes on him, her brother leaned back and rubbed his temples as he shut his eyes. Knowing how her brother had treated her recently Myrna knew it was wise to leave him be, but not everyone thought that way it would seem.

"Your woman don't want to fuck you anymore?" Sandor japed at him. It had been awhile since any of them had spoken, and it should have stayed that way.

Nicholas frowned hard at him and was about to stand up when Brenda began to sing.

_The Dornishman's wife was as fair as the sun,  
and her kisses were warmer than spring…_

He turned his head at her.

_But the Dornishman's blade was made black as steel,  
and its kiss was a terrible thing…_

As she continued to sing the song in her honeyed voice, Nicholas let out a scruffy laugh as if some joke had been cracked. He eased back down and acted as if nothing had happened but he kept a small smile on his face as Brenda continued singing from the front. When Myrna took a peek at the Stark girls across from her she saw Sansa captivated by Brenda. Her face was turned towards Brenda and she seemed almost entertained. There was something amiss, though. No spark in her green eyes. Perhaps her time in Kings Landing softened her liking towards songs. The same had happened to herself after everything that happened to her back at home.

_Brothers, oh brothers, my days here are done  
the Dornishman's taken my life,_

_But what does it matter, for all men must die,  
and I've tasted the Dornishman's wife!_

The song finished, and Sansa complimented Brenda. Brenda gave no response, and the girl blinked awkwardly as she gazed back down at her hands that were on her lap. When Arya noticed she narrowed her eyes towards Brenda and Myrna knew another problem was going to arise.

"You could say thank you," Arya spat.

Brenda sighed softly and slightly turned her head. "Thank you," she uttered sarcastically.

Arya was about to stand up this time but Sansa grabbed her sister's arm and pulled her back down but that did not stop her from speaking her mind. "You used to be nice! What happened to you? Is it because of him?" Arya pointed at Nicholas with her free hand. "Everything's gone to shit since he appeared!" she added.

"_Arya!_" Sansa scolded harshly. "There's no need for that language!"

The young sister broke free but crossed her arms instead of her original plan, whatever it was. "Someone had to say it," Arya said now glaring at Nicholas.

So far Myrna had stayed out of it, but she felt it couldn't remain that way for long. Sandor had been keeping his eyes closed after almost having an encounter with Nicholas, but his furrowed brows told Myrna he was listening to everything going on. He had less patience than her, and she was close to losing hers.

"You're wrong," Nicholas spoke up rather calmly. Arya and Sansa, even Sandor now had their eyes on him. "Everything will be the way it should be in the near future. I promise you that," he smiled at Myrna directly. It gave her chills. What exactly is her brother planning?

The wagon halted sharply and the horse held its head high and trotted in place. Everyone now moved their attention from Nicholas to Brenda who now was standing on the seat glaring down at Nicholas. "If everything were as it should be your sister would be with The Mountain and he wouldn't be chasing our arses! The Gods know he is doing just that!" Brenda hollered. Nicholas took in a deep breath before turning to face his disgruntled love as everyone else in the wagon watched. "What are you going to do about that!? And what are you going to do with Baelish?! I need an answer right now!"

There was a pause before his answer. "Just let them come," he replied.

Sandor snorted. "You're a fucking dead man if my brother gets a hold of you. Especially after stealing his precious bride," he smiled crudely at her brother.

"For once I agree with the smelly dog," Brenda put her hand on her hip as she gave Sandor a look.

Myrna clenched her teeth as Sandor looked away from the lovers casually. Her brother was not happy with people ganging on him. "Should I go hand back Myrna to your brother, perhaps?" he asked Sandor. "I bet he would treat my sister gently, wouldn't he?"

Tension slowly rose again between those two, and Brenda did not seem to be in the mood to sing another song unfortunately. Sandor returned her brother's glare. "The real question here is, would _you_ treat her gently? Whatever the _fuck_ you are planning on doing with all of us, especially her?" This time Sandor really did stand up, and Nicholas remained sitting. He almost looked like a child. Sansa and Arya sat very still where they were and Brenda watched cautiously. "You talk to us like you run this damn thing. Fuck you. _And_ you," he looked to Brenda before looking back down to Nicholas. "I don't give a rat's arse if you helped us out of Kings Landing. You call yourself a knight. Every knight is a bloody joke, but you? You're not even worth a laugh. Seven hells, you were knighted by my brother of all fucking people! You tell me if you should give your sweet sister back to the noble, honorable knight who placed his blade upon your shoulder! Or should she stay here with her brother that put a mark on her back like this one right here?" he pointed to his face.

By now Nicholas looked like he was trying to look through his eyebrows as he stared up at Sandor. He was grimacing so hard Myrna feared what he might try to do. This whole conversation was about her but she remained a mouse. There was so much exploitation at once about her personal life that she did not want to speak. If anyone's eyes looked upon her at that moment she felt like she would have sobbed.

"Fuck all of this! I'm tired of keeping the peace with this pathetic lot," Brenda threw her hands in the air and jumped the wagon. Hastily she marched into a wooded area off to the west opposite of where the bay was.

Then she felt it. Myrna looked down at the wagon's wooden floor before meeting the gaze of the Stark sisters. Sansa's glassy green eyes looked right through her and Arya's cool gray eyes were filled with pity yet some resentment lingered. If things had been different Myrna would be gleefully chatting with these girls over dinner at one of the great halls either in Winterfell or her home Beaumont Hall. They were of northern blood, and their families were once great allies. Their ancestors broke bread together. In fact, Myrna and Nicholas' father helped their father, Eddard Stark, when he called all the Northern bannermen for Robert's Rebellion. Time will kill precious things such as this, and great houses eventually fall. Myrna had to leave.

Myrna shot off the wagon and headed west as well after Brenda. More than anything she wanted an explanation from the woman she trusted more than anyone. When they reunited she was full of love, but now suddenly she hates her. Why would she be so cruel and want her returned to The Mountain? Myrna quickened her pace but only found a small clearing past the wooded area that overlooked a grassy field at the bottom of this cliff. Then she felt a pain in her back, where her scar was.

After shouting in pain she only shouted more as her hair was now being grabbed. Roughly she was pulled back and Brenda's scent filled her nose and she spoke directly in her ear brushing it with hot air. "Did your poor back hurt? How about I add another scar to it!?" then she shoved her forward once again letting her fall.

After being pushed into the dirt, Myrna reached for her pocket for her dagger but it was empty. Her heart sank, and she looked past Brenda toward Sandor who was running towards them through the trees and his facial expression tightened when he realized what was wrong. A few days prior when they sat in the field together he had taken her dagger away and put it away on himself. Myrna was defenseless.

"After all I did for him… that inn fire, the deal with The Mountain, everything! And he chooses you!" the Dornish woman seemed close to tears but she was far too irate to cry. Suddenly a dagger was pointed at Myrna. Her once beautiful, exotic Dornish gaze was now filled with rage. "Why the hell does he care more about you than me!? You're supposed to be locked away with The Mountain and out of the way, but no! Nicholas forbids it!" Brenda wailed.

"You fucking whore, I knew that it was you all along!" Sandor proclaimed as he arrived just in time to hear the confession and he reached for his sword but was still too cautious to approach. Brenda was unpredictable.

Brenda began breathing rapidly. "There's a permanent solution here…"

Suddenly she lunged. As Myrna took another step back she regretted it, feeling nothing. Now she was completely at the end and all there was behind her was air. With a sharp cry, Myrna leaned forward to get her whole body back on the ground but Brenda took a swing with the dagger. There was no choice but to go back.

Now she really did cry out. Instinct made her toes and fingers dig into the vertical earth and luckily there were roots everywhere. She caught one, feeling it pull out from the dirt a couple inches but it managed to hold her. When she peered up it looked as if she were about four to five feet away from where she was standing. There was some shouting; the noise of a struggle. Seconds pass and the first person she sees is Sandor look over and down at her, his eyes darting around as if his mind was quickly evaluating the situation. Sweat made his scar glisten.

"Where is she!?" Myrna cried out, clinging tightly to the root. The feeling of nothingness under her feet left her paralyzed. She dared not to look down.

"I'll kill the bitch once I get you back up here!" Sandor yelled back and went to his knees and tried to reach down. He was just a few feet too far to grab her.

"Let go of one hand and reach, girl!" he commanded.

Myrna felt her hands begin to shake. "I cannot…" Myrna whimpered.

"Yes you can!" he yelled at her, opening up his palm wider. "Reach!"

After taking in a deep breath, Myrna found the courage to let go of one hand to raise up to his but before she could grab his hand the root she was clinging onto loosened from the dirt wall and she fell even further down and screamed. Now she was dangling and holding onto the root with both hands once again. Then she heard a loud _crack_ as the end of the root completely gave way and everything seemed to crumble around her.

When she opened her eyes they met a starry sky. After collecting her thoughts she tried to move but when she did it felt like her sides were stinging. As she slowly sat up to examine herself a bunch of dirt had been sitting on her and some rolled off. Once she brushed the rest off of herself she saw the side of her tunic had torn streaks and within the holes were long scratches. It hurt like the hells, then she looked ahead of her and saw a ton of debris. Rocks, pieces of cliff and branches were lying by her. When she examined the very top of the cliff it looked different. It were as if someone had carved a large chunk out of the earth. A landslide had occurred.

"Ungh…" Myrna grumbled loudly as she tried to stand up but it took great effort. Her body felt heavy and banged up. "Where is everyone?" she asked aloud.

Making her way closer to the debris she recollected everything that had happened. No doubt all of this was because of the root she held onto. Then she wondered why no one had gone down here to help her. When she fell the sun was high in the sky. Clearly at least a half a day had gone by and it should not have taken anyone that long to make their way to her. Myrna peered up at the uneven land at the top of the cliff where all the dirt had collapsed. _Wait…_ Myrna stared harder at that spot. _Sandor was kneeling right there_, she recalled. A sudden realization made her gut twist and she looked down at horror at the pile of debris before her.

Then she dove in. Her nails dug deep into the dirt and she scattered the tall pile of broken land as quickly as she could. There was so much and the thought of him being buried in there terrified her. Once she was sure she was almost down to the ground in one area she would move to the next. Myrna felt something and her heart leaped. Brushing away the dirt she only uncovered a large root and nothing more. As her digging went on her breathing grew heavy and not just from the physical labor. Nothing was being found. She wiped her dirty hands across her face, surely leaving muddy marks.

Myrna was sure she checked every spot in this giant pile of broken land. Standing up she glanced at her progress and saw most of the debris had been flattened out and scattered. Then she was beginning to wonder if he even did fall with her.

Losing hope, Myrna looked the opposite way of the cliff and to where she awakened before. What she saw made her feel stupid. Just a little ways the other direction of where she woke up she saw him lying there. Almost tripping over her own feet, she made her way over there as quickly as she could. Myrna had been so distracted by the aftermath of the landside that she did not even bother to look in other areas. Falling to his side, she saw he had a layer of dirt on himself just as she did except he seemed more injured. Blood covered most of his face. A gash was on his forehead. Then the crack on his breast plate took her eyes off of the gash. _This is useless now…_ Myrna noted. She began unbuckling the straps on his shoulders and gently taking off his armor. Once it was off he let out a throaty sigh but he remained unconscious.

"Sandor? Can you hear me?" she attempted to awaken him and shook his now unarmored shoulder. He let out a painful growl. Myrna quickly took back her hands. Perhaps his injuries were far vaster than she initially thought.

He opened his eyes and blinked a couple times. Myrna was now at loss for words and just sat there looking at him. "Fucking hell…" he cursed under his breath as he grabbed his shoulder and rolled over on his side away from her.

"Are you hurt?" she asked.

He let out a weak laugh. "What does it fucking look like, woman? This is all your fault…" he cursed more but now it was aimed at her.

That was a big blow for her. "I… I didn't mean…" Myrna stammered but did not know how to defend herself. It really was her fault, after all.

"I pulled you out of that pile of dirt over there," Sandor began talking even though he wasn't facing her. It made her heart skip a beat. "Then… I don't know. I must have passed out," he sounded strangely calm.

_That makes sense. If I had fallen before the landslide I should be underneath all that broken land_, she thought. Somehow she had made it out without any serious injuries and thanked the Seven for it. However, Sandor was not quite as lucky. He seemed to not to want to face her but she would not have that. After standing up and walking over to his other side she kneeled back down and he looked annoyed. "Let me look at your bad shoulder, at least…" Myrna spoke to him as she went for his collar. He allowed her to do so but still kept his eyes averted as she tugged on the collar of his tunic to look.

From what she could see no skin was broken, which was a good sign. When she examined it more closely there was a bump over his joint. _He dislocated it_, Myrna cringed at the thought. Nicholas had dislocated his shoulder once before when they were children and she remembered how he howled in pain as their maester had to relocate it. That memory had always disturbed her whenever it resurfaced. The problem was she was outside the room her brother was being treated in because she had been too afraid to watch. She did not know what to do.

"We need to relocate your shoulder," Myrna told him as she covered him back up.

Sandor grimaced and nodded his head. "I could've told you that," he said sourly.

"Does that mean this has happened to you before?" she asked and prayed the answer was yes. That would mean he would know what to do.

"First, we…" he had trouble speaking and groaned. "Gods damn this pain. I just… need to rest my eyes…" he drifted slowly to a slumber.

Myrna sat next to the sleeping man and scratched her head. _Well, there is nothing I can do right now…_ she thought.

For now she would rest. Her muscles asked for it. The scratches on her side still stung on top of that. Also, all the thoughts running through her mind left her in low spirits. Had everyone abandoned them? What will they do now? How will they survive without money? Myrna only survived because she had people to rely on. Sure, she had some combat skills but most of the time after her home burned down and before Kings Landing she spent it in some tiny village under an alias and there was no need to fight. There she and her friend who saved her from her brother stayed. Now they seemed like happier times until that part of her life came to an end as well… And she was dragged off to Kings Landing.

Underneath her the grass was soft enough to comfortably sleep on and she sprawled out. The night was very chilly, and she wrapped her arms around herself. An idea popped in her head on how to warm up, but when she looked at Sandor she flushed. _No_, she told herself and turned the opposite direction of where he was. This wasn't the first night where she slept under the stars. Not by a long shot. Myrna was okay on her own. Or so she made herself believe.

Note: Thank you for your patience! I normally dislike writing notes like this but I want to let everyone know I have not forgotten this story and I plan on updating it more frequently. While I was away I received wonderful compliments and helpful criticisms. You guys are tremendously supportive, even in my absence, and I thank you. Also, the song is obviously not mine but belongs to GRRM. Happy reading!


	16. Chapter 16

He roared in pain as she pulled. Next to him his tunic and what was left of his armor were piled sloppily as he rested on his back. Within his leather brigandine were berries Myrna hastily gathered and some had spilled on the dirt from Sandor rushing her to aid him. She was the one that had to carry everything they had, little as it was, because of his injury. Myrna's right hand now grabbed a hold of his forearm tightly as her left hand grabbed his wrist and she pulled. They had found themselves under a bridge which was the closest shelter they could find from the incoming storm. It now poured around them.

He told her what she had to do to help him and that this procedure could not be rushed. He gave her a threat if she ended up damaging his shoulder. Sandor was beginning to sweat, as was she but from nerves. Hearing the sound of his pain and the possibility of doing him more harm if this was done wrong weighed on her mind. In order to prevent her hands from slipping off of him she had to squeeze as tight as she could.

Myrna couldn't help but notice how purple and puffy his shoulder had become. Everything surrounding that bruise was so fair. His skin looked as if it had never been kissed by the sun. Old battle scars and sores from where his armor might have pinched him were scattered all over his torso and shoulders. Her eyes being drawn to observe him made her loosen her grip and he noticed.

"Don't fucking stop, stupid girl…" he barked through the pain.

She glared as she strengthened her pull. "If you call me that again I'll stop helping," Myrna warned.

Finally they heard a _pop_. Myrna was repulsed at the noise and dropped Sandor's arm as he sighed in relief. "Seven bloody buggering hells! That feels so much better!" he grabbed his shoulder with his opposite hand and rubbed it.

"That quick?" Myrna, still disgusted by what she just heard, kept her distance while still making sure she remained under the bridge.

He looked at her and noticed her behavior. "Quit wrinkling your little nose like that at me. I didn't bat an eye when I saw your burned hand… and back," he added.

"That's different," was all she can say to defend herself. Crossing her arms she looked away and towards the wall of rain next to them. The scratches on her side bothered her, but before they were forced to find shelter she had washed the dirt off of her from a nearby stream. She hoped it would not become infected and that a rinse was enough. Then she went to grab her belly as it began to ache. They had no proper tools to hunt with. That was when Myrna remembered the berries.

Myrna circled around where Sandor was lying and went to organize the mess she had dropped. Since now his tunic was off she flattened that out and picked up the brigandine to pour the berries on the tunic. Putting that aside she picked up the berries that had fallen on the dirt and put them with the rest. Muddy berries wasn't exactly her favorite thing to eat but her stomach demanded something. When she popped one in her mouth she must have made a face because Sandor cackled at her. She ignored him and continued to eat despite her mouth tasting of dirt. As long as her stomach was satisfied she would be alright.

Myrna's mind was now no longer occupied by Sandor's injury and now it went back to the previous day. The Stark girls were still with her brother. That worried her. On top of that Brenda had snapped and she hadn't a clue what her fate was.

"Stop worrying about them," Sandor broke her thought process. It was as if he could read her mind now. "They didn't give a rat's arse about us anyway. Only good they were was that they had coin," he sounded rather mournful about that last part.

A chill made her cross her arms and Sandor finally made his way over to finish what was left of their tiny meal and threw on his tunic to shield himself from the brisk temperature. He tightened the lace in front as she began to feel broody. "What are we to do without coin?" she asked almost in a rhetorical manner. "No horse, no goods… just the clothes on our backs," Myrna went on and hugged her knees to her chest.

"I still have my sword, and your dagger…" he remarked.

"You always have your sword," Myrna retorted. He refused to let her set it down no farther than a foot away from him when they arrived at their spot. "And give me back my dagger before someone else tries to kill me," she reached out with an open palm. He had no witty reply to that and grabbed her dagger from his belt to hand it to her. Myrna placed it on herself and felt better.

The silence between them allowed her to brainstorm ideas for the first time since they fell. As she sorted out what they could do in her mind one idea stuck out but it was risky. Myrna travelled a lot before she was captured and brought to Kings Landing, but there was one village she lived in for the majority of the time. It was a small village outside of Fairmarket. Back then she believed only about 50 people inhabited it. Myrna was close with the Elder and his wife as they were the ones that found her half starving not too far from their village. _That was after I lost my friend from home_, she remembered and mourned. The worst thing that could happen to a person was to end up traveling alone with nowhere to go. That village saved her. After putting more thought into it the more she believed this was their best chance for survival. Perhaps they would save her again and hopefully Sandor, too.

"Do you know how far away Fairmarket is?" Myrna questioned.

Sandor paused before answering. "If we had a horse, mayhaps three days with good weather. Without a horse, I say who fucking cares," he rasped.

"I may be able to give us an actual place to live for a while if you would start caring," she scolded.

"It doesn't matter if I care. What matters is if we have a horse. I lost Stranger and I don't see any horses for the taking around here, do you?" he spat back. "What business do you have in fucking _Fairmarket _anyway?"

She was not sure where to begin. "I lived in a small village on the outskirts of Fairmarket for some years. It actually was the last place I lived before I went to Kings Landing," she began.

"If it were a pleasant stay you would have remained there. What made you leave?"

"Was against my will. The elder's wife had me fetch some sourleaf. Had an ache in her tooth. So I went to find some outside the village when a man who I did not recognize but seemed friendly enough chatted me up. But before I knew it I was…" Myrna drifted off.

Sandor gave her a hard look. "What did he do?"

"To be quite honest I don't remember. I think I passed out somehow. Then when I awoke I was on a wagon headed towards the capital…" Myrna reminisced. _And then I met you_, she thought and her heart fluttered suddenly.

"Alright. We make for Fairmarket," he concluded.

Myrna sat up. "Well, wait… there is more you need to know," she said hesitantly.

"Well, bloody speak up!" he barked.

"They did not know me as Myrna Beaumont…"

"Huh?"

"I was not me. They knew me as Ina Rivers. Bastard from a small fisherman village near Riverrun. That was the story I thought would be best, and they believed me and took me in," she elaborated.

He roared a great laugh. It made her jump. "And what will my buggering name be, woman? Surely not something that makes me sound like a whore!" he smiled viciously.

"Pardon! Ina was my mother's name! She was a great lady, head of one of the best Northern houses after the Starks!" Myrna hollered at him nearly ready to get on her feet.

Sandor's jaw tightened. "Calm down. That was a bloody jape, no need to give me a history lesson…" he softened his tone. He could see Myrna was still offended by the way she would not relax. "Your dead mother had a pretty name," he tried to further remedy what he did but anything nice that came out of his mouth just sounded sour even if he meant it.

"Thank you," she replied flatly as she gazed once again to the rain. Her eyes traced the hills yonder as she heard rustling next to her. Then a sharp tap was felt on her shoulder and when she turned her head Sandor was squatting next to her. His gaze was hard, and the sweat from earlier made his scar glisten.

He pointed at it. "No one is going to fucking believe me if I tell them I am anyone but Joffrey's dog once they lay their eyes on me. Don't you understand?" he talked down to her.

"It was a small village, it's possible they wouldn't be able to notice…" she replied softly.

"Everyone will notice this. Don't be stupid, now!"

The softness in her tone left. "You know what? I think you are the one who is most bothered by your own face! Right now I don't even notice when I look at you! You might even pass as comely with my eyes, but you're so stubborn you wouldn't even notice a compliment if it smacked you across the face!" she huffed after that and looked away. Then he surprised her as he plopped down on his bottom and wrapped his arm tightly around her and pulled her in. His movement made him groan slightly, as that arm was the one she had been pulling on for so long. It must have been sore yet. "You shouldn't…" she tried to muster out words but it proved too difficult.

He leaned back and took her with him. Myrna stared up at the bottom of the bridge as she was nestled within his arm. "We're alright. Don't act like this isn't what you want," he reassured her but couldn't without some sort of jest. "It'll be a cold night and every night to come from now on until we get a roof over our head. And I'm not lighting a bloody fire…"

Before Myrna had doubled with him on horses and leaned against him, but then it was different. He wore armor always and his touch was hard and cold. Now she could feel flesh through the cloth he wore. Soft, yet firm. There was a stench to him but she did not mind. After everything they had been through she probably didn't smell of lavender and lilacs either. Her heartbeat began to slow as she adjusted and rested her head against him willingly. What would she tell folk when they make it to the village she called home for a few years? Especially with him at her side? What is he to her? Myrna felt this was an important thing she should settle before they arrived.

"Are you alright with our plan? Do you have a name in mind that you can use?" she eased into the topic.

For a moment she thought he did not hear her but he answered after thinking it over. "I don't lie. Always hated bloody liars. But for our sake…" he grumbled. "The village should be remote enough for us hide. If not, we can fight our way free again. Should be used to it by now. And a new name? Bugger I know. Anything will do as long as they don't know who I am by just looking at me," he explained.

As Myrna took her time to ponder on what to say next she began to hear his snoring. _He must be exhausted_, she thought. She was tired, too, and was not as beaten up as he was. Her eyelids grew heavy and she drifted off.

A familiar feeling overcame her as she found herself in another environment. The wood beneath her feet was made from Ironwood, and mounted trophies hung on the high walls. Her nose picked up the earthy scent that reminded her of home. This was where her nightmares usually took place, but the burning corpses of her parents were not there. Her brother who wept over the corpses was also missing. The worst memory she could possibly hold and that haunted her had left. Myrna turned to look behind her, and still nothing. It was painfully quiet. This place was frozen in time.

There was a doorway that lead to another part of her manor but it was black. A thick shadow was casted beyond the frame and the room was pitch black. Myrna remembered that used to be the dining area with windows that reached the ceiling so you could feel as if you were a part of the forest as you enjoyed your meal. That room should be gleaming even if it were just the moon's rays shining down if you happened to be down here at night. Not only was that odd, but she felt like she was being watched.

"Who's there?" Myrna choked out.

The two figures came out from the shadow and Myrna held back a sob as she put her hand over her mouth. It was the Stark girls. The girls looked so sickly. Their skin almost gray, and their eyesockets a deep purple that made their eyeballs stand out. "You abandoned us," Arya moaned.

"And you took my husband," Sansa added. Slowly they walked closer to her but Myrna wanted them nowhere near her. As she backed up she suddenly felt nothing under her feet just as she had experienced when Brenda forced her off an edge of a cliff.

The feeling of falling made her leap out of her sleep and she sat up breathing heavily. A bead of sweat rolled down her face. "We need to help them!" she cried out. When she faced Sandor he was still asleep. Myrna put her hands on his torso and shook him awake. He scowled and cursed as he blinked his eyes open. It did not take him long to notice the shaken state Myrna was in.

"What happened?" he murmured as he sat up with her. When she shakily described the dream she had he rubbed his hand down his face and made an annoyed sound. "I told you not to worry about those girls. He's taking them home, nothing more," he tried to lay back down but Myrna grabbed his shirt. He scowled harder.

Myrna shook her head. "You should know my brother by now! He's insane! He's probably torturing them right now!" she exclaimed.

"My brother is probably torturing someone right now, too. What of it? What are we to do? Sure, that pretty Stark girl deserves better. I would have given her what she needed. But she refused my help! Whatever that happens to her is what she decided for herself," he now made it clear that he was done talking for the night and turned over on his side away from her.

Something made Myrna stop herself from defending the girl. The way Sandor had put it, it really made it sound like there was a part of him that wanted Sansa. On top of that he was no longer wrapping his arm around her as they slept. She should not allow something as trivial as this to hurt her feelings but it did. Myrna laid back down, with her back facing him and the night feeling a little colder.


	17. Chapter 17

They took their chances staying close to the main road that headed north. So far it had proven more helpful than trivial. A local farmer in the area was hulling a wagon with his horse and when stopped he had refused to give them a ride for he was not to go much farther. After giving them a pitiful look he hopped in the back of his wagon and ended up giving them some dried berries, edible mushrooms and turnips in a woolen sack. Myrna gave him thanks as she took the food and they watched him roll his way through the muddy road ahead as they continued their trek.

"Should've killed him and stolen the damn horse," Sandor muttered as he grabbed the sack from her hands and went to nab a mushroom from the bottom to eat it.

"Is that how you thank people? That you _should've killed them?_" Myrna deepened her voice to mock him.

After popping another mushroom in his mouth he shoved the sack back into her chest and she grabbed it while trying to balance herself from the impact. She scowled at him but stopped when he went farther off to the side towards a tree while unlacing himself. Myrna made herself stare off down the road while she waited impatiently for him. When she wiggled her toes she could feel caked mud in between them. If they walked too close to the main road their feet would sink into the muck. So far one of her feet had managed to slip out of her shoe from it being sucked into the mud. Sandor had a good laugh at her when that happened but that only made her mood fouler.

Too much rain during the past few days had made the road hard to travel on and Myrna feared that made their chances of running into more people slim. The thought made her refrain from grabbing something from the sack despite her stomach panging from hunger. It was important to conserve what they had until they made it to Maidenpool. Sandor was sure they were not too far away from the harbor town and there they could take a boat straight to Fairmarket. Though Myrna had no idea how they were going to be able to afford a boat ride. When she had tried to discuss that part of their measly plan Sandor ignored her. She hated being ignored by him more than hearing his wicked words.

When he made his way back she faced him once more. "Did you drink the whole bloody river?" she taunted.

"Is your red flower blooming? Why are you so fucking bitchy today?" he retorted as they started their walk along the road again.

Truth be told she was still upset over the previous night. Also his jab reminded her of a memory from Kings Landing. Sansa had spoken to her about how she had been caught by Sandor when she tried to hide her moonblood. "Is it a hobby of yours to bother women when they are flowering?"

The look he gave her told her he knew what she was talking about. "I was doing my job," he rasped.

"By barging into a young lady's chamber?"

He grinded his teeth before responding. "By barging into the king's betrothed's chamber. The one I was ordered to protect…"

"You knew what it meant when she began flowering. By the way you act around her one would think you would care more," Myrna stared blankly ahead as she pushed herself to keep walking. She found herself beginning to fumble around with her dagger she kept on her hip while her other hand held their food.

"Is this what it's about? The little bird again?" he laughed unpleasantly. "Aye, she is a pretty one. Any man would be glad to have her. But she wasn't for me," he spoke plainly.

Myrna kept her mouth shut tight as she looked down at her dirty feet. She did not want to give away how she felt but being quiet probably did not help much.

Sandor broke the silence. "I hate it when you're like this," he complained.

Her sorrows finally poured out. "I'm dirty, hungry, tired and still sore from the fall my supposed friend caused me. And I don't even know if our plan will work. And you won't tell me how we're going to get on a boat without coin. _And_ all we have on us is our steel and some fucking _turnips_!" she threw the sack at him and he managed to catch it though he looked surprised. The shock turned to rage as he dropped the sack. One of his massive hands grabbed the front of her tunic and he pulled it so tight it slightly ripped and she was inches away from his face in a matter of seconds. Somehow he had managed to get dirt on his face but the redness from his scar still showed. Hot air hit her face when he yelled at her.

"You little fool! I swear sometimes you are so bloody-" he yelled until a faraway noise made him stop yelling. Both of them turned their attention behind them down the road they had covered so far. His grip on her softened but he did not let go. Instead he reached for her bicep and pulled her more off to the side where the woods grew thicker. Now it was the recognizable sound of hooves that was coming at them and they were coming at a great speed. They made it behind a dewy bush just in time before the pair of riders made themselves visible. That was when Myrna noticed the sack they had dropped in the road and she felt the hair on her arms stand on end.

Myrna whispered to him harshly, "You dropped the food you idiot!"

He hushed her and stared sternly down the road and she did the same. The first one to pass them was cloaked heavily in black that matched his mare. He did not even seem to notice the sack his horse nearly trampled. However the second rider slowed his pace and although he wore a cloak the hood was down. The man leaned over as his dark horse that matched his friend's and trotted along to examine the goods he found. His hair was short and gray but his beard was thick and black. To Myrna he was rather homely with his large round nose and squinty eyes that were under thick black eyebrows that matched his beard. The man had decided it was not worth it to get off his horse to pick up the sack so he gave his mare a kick and off he went after his friend. When the men disappeared over the sloppy hills they crawled out from behind the bush and Myrna went to grab their food that somehow survived.

"Fucking Shitmouth," Sandor growled.

Myrna picked up their food and gave him a puzzled look. "Pardon?"

He walked closer to her. "One of Gregor's pets," he informed her sullenly.

That made her belly drop. "So he… hasn't given up on me yet…" she stammered as she held the sack close to her chest. "He must be nearby. What if he…?"

"He won't have you," Sandor reassured her.

His words had an effect on her and she found a piece of comfort in them. "Let's carry on, then?" she proposed.

They brushed off their argument and stayed rather quiet the rest of the day. Myrna was grateful the food was not destroyed and decided to eat. She ate most of the dried berries by the time the sun was setting. It was clear they were not going to make it to Maidenpool that day so they kept an eye out for any kind of shelter for the night. That ended up failing, for by the time the color in the west was drowned out by the black of night they were still hiking along the road. Myrna's knees ached and she was certain she was blistering in places on her feet. Sandor stopped them and they decided to camp as best they could amongst the shadows of the woods beside them. Myrna walked behind him and watched him plop down against the trunk of a pine that had its bottom branches sawed off and removed his sword from him to set it aside. It served as a good enough shelter for them. Before Myrna took a seat she approached him and squatted as she set the sack down next to him.

"I want a look at your shoulder," she ordered.

He sighed as he loosened the collar of his dirty, beige tunic and pulled it to the side to make his injured shoulder bare. Myrna went to feel it as he looked off to the other side. "Does it hurt when it's touched?" she asked as she continued to push down in areas and noticed herself the swelling had gone down well but the area was still rather bruised.

Then her hand was pushed away and he tightened the lace again so his shoulder was covered. "I'm fine," he stated. It seemed today was not a good day for the two of them so Myrna decided to retire without another word. About a yard from where he sat against the trunk Myrna laid down on her side with her arm stretched out to act as a pillow for her head.

Their mood the next day reflected the change in weather. Breaks in the clouds made the sun able to brighten the normally dark and shadowy forest they cannot seem to get out of. Everything looked greener and more alive when it was sunny. What Myrna enjoyed was that the road was slowly beginning to dry up and walking became easier. Sandor and her were covering ground faster than the day before and their small conversations were not as heavy or angry.

"So your sigil is three dogs…" Myrna started a conversation.

He scratched his beard. "What of it?"

"Did you ever have your own pet dog at Kings Landing?" she asked.

He took the question more seriously than she anticipated. "It's not a place for dogs, took me many years to realize that. Though that was one of the few things I missed from home…"

"Home?" Myrna pushed.

He looked at her hard. "Sometimes I forget you're a Northerner and you probably don't know shit about the houses down here. I wasn't born in Kings Landing. I come from a line of _honorable knights_, or so they say, and my grandfather saved a Lannister with three of his dogs. From what you say? A buggering lion," he cackled. "But the dogs lost their lives so when my grandfather was honored with his own land those three dogs became my family's sigil. That's the gist of it," he concluded.

"Huh. Did not know that," Myrna dwelled in thought. "Why did you leave home?"

He grew a little quiet and Myrna worried she was being too nosey but instead of telling her to bug off he answered again. "As Gregor grew older more people began going missing or dying unexpectedly. Including my parents and a sister. Didn't want to be next," he rasped softly.

_How awful_, Myrna thought as she stared at him. It made her angry knowing Gregor had gotten away with so much. Also she was surprised that Sandor once had a sister but she guessed he probably did not know her too well by the way he spoke of it. She wondered what she would have been like. Was she tall and rash like the male Clegane's she knew of? Now she felt it was a good time to back off slightly on his past.

"Perhaps we will both finally find a real home in Fairmarket," Myrna hoped.

It felt like they were climbing the millionth hill since they had to begin their walk and it was a very steep one. So steep it made Myrna almost need to crawl and she heard Sandor curse as one of his feet slipped. Once they made it to the top they both stopped. Down in the distance they finally saw the sight they had been hoping to view. A little town was nestled along the Bay of Crabs, and the sunlight made the water glitter beyond the shapes of the buildings.

"I never thought we'd see it," Myrna said with a sigh.

Sandor began walking again and even quicker this time and she shortly followed. "It's within our sights but we still have a ways to walk. Let's not waste time," he barked at her.

"I know, I know…" she picked up her pace in order to keep up with his long strides.

Now the dirt road they followed turning winding, and downhill. Gravity pulled them which made it easier but both were clearly exhausted. Myrna could feel her thighs and calves burning from pushing herself and once in a while she had to wipe sweat off her hairline. Neither wanted to take a rest. They just wanted to reach their destination. From there it should be easy traveling, or so she hoped.

The dirt road took a sharp hook to the right after the land had flattened considerably. An unguarded gate was left open that was made of pink stone known in the area. Within the walls they saw men carrying timber and just as quickly as they came into view they were out of it. Their pace turned slow and cautious, and Myrna allowed Sandor to lead. After they entered the gate Myrna noticed half of the buildings were blackened by fire and were falling apart.

"Who goes there?" a voice came from their back right and Sandor put his hand on the hilt of his sword when they turned to look. It was an older, balding man wearing worn armor and a rusty sword. A scar crossed over his left eye. "We're not taking refugees. Best be on your way," he warned.

Sandor took a step in front of Myrna as if shielding her. "We don't plan on living in this shithole. Are boats still active along the harbor?"

"Aye, if you've the coin…" he eyed them suspiciously.

"That's all we're here for. Let's go," he ordered her and she obeyed.

They were not done with him. "Wait," the man called after them. Sandor returned an annoyed look. Myrna felt her heart beating faster. "I think I know youse…" he squinted his eyes at them and took a few steps closer.

"Never seen you my whole life, old man…" Sandor rasped.

The old man furrowed his brows. "Not youse. Bugger off. I'm talking to the lass," he focused in on Myrna.

Myrna blinked. "Me? You must be mistaking me for someone else, good ser…" she waved her hands and shook her head.

"She doesn't want to talk to you anyway. Leave us," Sandor grabbed her shoulder tight but the man kept speaking to them.

"Youse were the one that ran away from Fairmarket. Idina? Fiona?" he recited names and scratched his head.

Suddenly she realized they were in no real danger. "You mean Ina?" she asked him.

He clapped his hands. "Aye! You're Ina! The elders were worried sick about youse last time I took a trip out west. They think youse dead in a ditch, ha ha! Aye, I remember seeing youse once when I had to make a stop there to drop off a shipment. With all that black hair on your 'ead it'd be hard to not remember. I like a dark-headed woman," he smiled for the first time and did not seem as menacing as he had thus far despite his lusty comment. "There will be a boat heading towards Fairmarket this evenin' if that is where youse plan on heading, actually the one I have been waiting on. Folks there might have supplies to help us rebuild Maidenpool. She's seen better days…" he glanced around.

"In fact it is. I am glad we ran into you, ser…" Myrna bowed her head as Sandor kept quiet with his hand remaining on her shoulder.

He pointed behind them. "Youse best relax and wait at the inn until the boat is ready to sail. I have errands to do before then. Good day," he smiled one more time and walked deeper into town.

They waited until he was out of hearing distance before commenting. "Do I have to fucking call you Ina from now on?" he sounded displeased and removed his hand from her now that the man had left them alone.

"Only in front of others. That reminds me that we still need to come up with a name and story for you," she faced him and crossed her arms.

"That rubbish can wait 'til later. Let's get to the inn," he turned his heel and went the direction the old man pointed. Myrna followed closely but something caught her eye next to the inn. Two black mares were posted at the stables. The sudden realization made her yank Sandor's arm.

"_OW!_" he yowled. It was the injured side she had pulled on accident.

"Oh," Myrna let go and took a step back.

He glared viciously as he rubbed his shoulder. "The fuck was that for?"

"Look over there," Myrna pointed at the stables and the frown remained on his face but now he knew what the problem was. "They know you, right? It might be best to avoid the inn if it is truly Gregor's men who rode past us," she stated.

For awhile Sandor was deep in thought until he made a disgruntled sound that sounded like it was stuck in his throat. He was irritated. "Fuck it. We're going on," he once again made his way towards the door.

"Wait! What are you doing!? They know you and are probably on the hunt for both of us!" Myrna yelled louder than she wanted since they were right outside the inn door. She sprinted around the large man and tried to stare him down but he had none of it. Sandor easily pushed her aside and pushed open the wooden door while ducking to avoid bumping his head on the top of the frame. _This man is insane_, Myrna thought to herself while she meekly followed him in.

Inside it was rather dark. Some wax candles were burning on window sills where some natural light also poured in but that was it. In all honesty Myrna was happy it was dark meaning it would be harder for people to see their faces. The people she saw inside were mostly accumulating on one side where there was a tiny stage but right now no one was performing any music. She assumed everyone was too busy rebuilding this town to do anything fun. That did not stop the current residents from being rowdy however. One man had an obnoxious laugh that was constant. Even if no one was speaking he would find something to say and it would be followed with a deep laugh.

They had found a spot on the other side of the inn where no one would bother them. Both of them sat at a table on the same side with their backs facing the crowd. "It's them," he nearly growled when he tried to whisper.

"Just the two of them or are they all Gregor's men?" she asked softly.

He took a quick peek over his shoulder and stared back at her. "Just the two. No idea who the others are. Probably just men who live in this filth," he replied.

Soon the jolly mood turned sour. Apparently one joke had gone too far and one of Gregor's men was insulted. When Myrna took her turn to look over she saw Shitmouth sitting with his hooded friend. His face was beginning to turn red, but she did not know if it was from the alcohol or from anger.

Shitmouth stood up at once, nearly knocking over the table. His friend also found his feet and they both ended up glaring at each other inches away from the others face. Everything went quiet. When the innkeep hollered at them from a room deeper within the building Shitmouth spat on the floor and slowly walked around his friend and towards the door. "Fuck all you buggers. I need to take a fucking piss," he muttered as he slammed the wooden door open and walked out.

As soon as they had entered they now looked to be leaving. Right as Shitmouth made his exit Sandor stood up again and chased him. Myrna was baffled but felt she had no choice but to follow. Her mouth had opened to protest but she did not make a sound when she caught a glimpse of the remaining man that was most likely hunting them. He was still dark and hooded, but seemed to be broody now that he was seated again and taking a swig from a wooden mug. Most importantly he did not seem to be looking in their direction. Myrna swiftly escaped the building and when she scanned for Sandor she saw him with his sword in hand making his way around the right corner of the inn. He was going to kill Shitmouth.

Myrna ran as quickly as she could manage, and when she turned the same corner she saw Sandor approaching Shitmouth who was facing a tree with his back towards them. Just as she thought Sandor was about to kill a man in cold blood he threw an insult at the man to grab his attention. When Shitmouth turned around the color left his face.

"What the fuckin' 'ell!?" he hollered as he pulled out his own sword to block the first swing Sandor took. Shitmouth managed to push off Sandor's sword and tried to run. When he saw Myrna he called out for help but stopped running when she had pulled out her dagger to throw it at him. It went deep into his belly and he began to wobble. Sandor and Myrna made eye contact for a second before he went to punch Shitmouth in the back of his head sending him over and face planting into the grass. With his boot Sandor flipped Shitmouth over who was now bleeding from the mouth and looking up at them glassy eyed. He took his sword by both hands with the blade pointing down at Shitmouth's chest and pierced his heart. Only after a few seconds it was clear Shitmouth was dead.

Myrna walked over and knelt down, looking over the man before reaching for her dagger. Dead bodies did not bother her. She had seen so many over her life. "You could have told me what you were up to," she wiped her dagger on Shitmouth's tunic until the etched oak tree was visible again.

He knelt down ignoring Myrna's comment and patted down the corpse until he found what he was looking for. Sandor swung a small brown leather pouch spotted with blood in her face. "Our ticket to your precious Fairmarket," he grinned as gracious as his ruined face could manage.


	18. Chapter 18

They were thankful no windows were built on the back of the inn. Myrna kept watch as Sandor managed to drag the corpse of poor Shitmouth off into the bushes that were along the pink stone walls that separated Maidenpool from the forest. They were sure he would not stink until they were well gone. Once Sandor met up with Myrna after the job was complete they awaited the other pet of Gregor's to search for his friend around the corner from the front door. Sandor leaned against the inn while taking a moment to look over his bloody sword. He did not seem pleased with it. Myrna sat crossed-legged on the grass until she heard the inn door swing open. She put her hand on the ground and undid her legs so she could stand back up. Nearing the corner of the building she joined Sandor in peaking around to see who it was.

"Oye! Shitmouth! Where the fuck are ye, ye bloody maggot!?" the cloaked man yelled with irritation in his voice. He stomped deeper into the town with the ends of his black cloak flowing behind him exposing a dagger attached to his hip. "Good for nothing whoreson!" he continued to holler.

Once he grew smaller from walking farther away Sandor calmly walked around the corner and towards the entrance. "He ain't finding Shitmouth for a while and I need a drink," he said as he pushed the door open with one of his large hands.

_I suppose it's been awhile since he had alcohol_, Myrna thought and followed in his footsteps. They did not have to be so cautious this time now that the danger was gone.

They made themselves comfortable in the same spot they were in moments ago before they caused the blood bath in the back of the inn. The noise level had considerably decreased since Gregor's pets were no longer in there. Myrna eyed a servant lady making their way towards them. Her gray hair was braided and pinned up on the back of her head, and she wore a brown woolen dress that showed tear from overuse. Large, deep lines formed around her mouth as she frowned at them.

She rubbed her hands together when she approached them. "You two get tired of waiting on me from earlier? My old legs can't walk that fast no more, especially when so many men are trying to make a mess of the place…" she complained.

"We had business to take care of. It was not any fault of yours," Myrna softly reassured the servant.

Sandor was quick to throw her an order. "I need ale. And as quick as those old legs can walk," he rasped.

"No, take your time. I insist," Myrna glared at him and he returned a dirty look.

It was clear the servant was getting uncomfortable. "Well, I'm Old Maggie if you need me. I will be back shortly with your ale and I'll bring some bread, too…" Old Maggie said quickly and shuffled back into the farther end of the dimly lit inn.

"Why don't you keep your damn mouth shut? I'm the one with the coin after all," he uttered.

Myrna stared him straight in the eye. "Why do you have to be such a rude, sourpuss all the time?" she replied.

"Me? The sourpuss between us two? That's a laugh," he remarked.

"You're the one who is always so broody all the time. At least I try to smile once in a while."

"I'll smile once I either get a drink or a woman, and you ain't giving me the latter."

Unable to look him in the eye she put her elbows on the hard wood and rested her chin on her intertwined fingers waiting for Old Maggie to return with their refreshments. The sound of the inn door opening made her heart jump but when she turned her head to peek at who it was she saw just some more men retiring from their days work. Then she peered out the nearest window and saw the sun was starting to lower itself. Soon they had to go catch their ride to Fairmarket, and if weather permits it they should be there by late noon tomorrow, perhaps evening. Although Sandor was in here just for a taste of ale it was probably a good idea for the both of them to find some kind of nourishment after their two days of hiking in the rain and mud.

Not too long after she left, Old Maggie came shuffling back with two wooden mugs that she held with one hand by their handles and with her other hand was a woven basket with a piece of white cloth draped over it. Once she set it down they could see it was rolls of brown oat bread. Myrna went to pick at one right away, thanking Old Maggie. Myrna sunk her teeth into the oat bread hungrily. It was slightly stale but she did not mind. That was the first thing she had eaten in forever that did not come from the dirt outside.

Sandor took many gulps of his ale and some dripped down into his beard. He smacked the empty mug down hard on the table while letting out a satisfying sound before Old Maggie could even leave. Old Maggie gave him a regarding look but told him she'd be back with another for him.

He licked his lips as he watched Myrna work on her bread. "The way you threw your dagger… I've seen you attack a man but not like that before," he noted.

Myrna shrugged and she swallowed what she had in her mouth. "Everyone should know how to protect themselves with a weapon whether you have a cock or not," a hint of boldness was in her voice.

He thought that was funny, but she was sure he did not agree with her by the tone of his laugh. Most men were that way. Especially ones who worked as soldiers. "Let's be clear that _I _was the one who killed him. You wouldn't even take a step towards him until he was dead!"

This was beginning to annoy her so she changed the subject. "We need to discuss our plan. We can't go walking into my old village without a solid story, and it obviously cannot be the truth. They know me as Ina Rivers and I need to stick with it," Myrna said as she reached for her mug and took a sip.

He looked at her mug longingly as he reached for some bread for himself before answering. "Why in the buggering seven hells couldn't of _Ina Rivers_ ran into The Hound? Does not sound like a stretch to me. Besides, even if one little person has any kind of knowledge about anything in this village they would know about Joffrey's guard dog with the burned face," he looked across the room for Old Maggie to replace his empty mug.

_That could work_, she thought. Only way it would not was if word about her was well-known. "But what if it is known The Hound is traveling with a wanted woman with black curly hair and a scar on her back?" she retorted. "I could cut my hair but there is nothing I can do about my back. The wife of the elder has already seen it and she would know I had lied to her the whole time…"

"Don't you cut your hair," he suddenly spat.

Myrna was taken back by his protest. "Why? Do you like it?" she let herself smile.

Sandor refused to give her a straight look and continued to eye where the kitchen was. "Where's that bloody woman? I need more ale!"

"No, you don't. The sun has begun to set. We need to leave and catch our boat," she put her hands on the rough wooden table and pushed herself up. After throwing her legs off the bench she walked towards the door knowing Sandor would follow her, willingly or not. After she stepped out she peered over towards the west and beyond the tips of the trees the sky was beginning to turn a bright orange. After she heard Sandor catch up with her she turned to look at his sulky face. "You left coin for Old Maggie, right?"

"Of course," he growled.

"We should hurry. Don't worry, I am sure there will be ale for you to drink over at Fairmarket," she teased as she followed the overly used path that lead towards the harbor. From behind she could hear him curse under his breathe but by now she knew he meant nothing of it.

There were two ships anchored along the harbor, but it was the flat ferry beyond the ships they were to board according to this stranger Sandor asked. Eventually the damp dirt they walked on had ended when they started walking upon wooden planks that would take them out further into the water. A breeze had picked up and sent Myrna's hair flying, and she had to hold it down along the side of her head. She silently thanked the Gods she was not wearing a dress. After they passed the two ships they approached the ferry and saw a familiar face waiting at the front of the gangplank.

"Good. We were about to set sail off without youse," he called out to them and walked up the gangplank and onto the ferry. Myrna followed and took a step onto it but before she could hop into the ferry a different man stepped in front of her. She nearly bumped into him and stared up at his face. He had a full beard but you could still see a scowl on his face as he stared down at her.

He held out his hand. "Two gold pieces. One for each passenger," he commanded.

Sandor pushed her aside as he fumbled with the coin within the purse they stole. "That's an awful lot of coin you're asking for, especially for a simple ferry ride…" he took the coin out and glared at the man.

"Hard times," was all the supposed captain said and he seemed to stare at Sandor's scar uneasily. The wind had blown his brown curls aside leaving him exposed. Sandor put the coin into the captain's hand and the captain gave it a look for a second before nodding and stepping aside.

Before they walked on Sandor mumbled to her, "A bunch of cunts, this lot…" and he took a heavy step in that nearly made the ferry bounce. Myrna replied with a sigh and jumped in as well but with more gentle in her step.

They walked over to the other side which wasn't very far. She watched the old man with the scar on his face pull in the gangplank with the rope that was attached to it and then pick up one of the few paddles that were resting in a pile. Large saddle bags were piled against the paddles and there was some more rope circled up neatly too. After the captain had chatted with the few other folk on the ferry he went to grab one too and then gave the dock a push with the paddle. Slowly they drifted away from the land and Myrna grabbed a hold of the railing with both hands, not caring now that the wind was making her hair dance. Her belly was in a knot from anxiety but also excitement. Right now they were in the Bay of Crabs and all she could see was water with a small line of land visible across it. She knew eventually this body of water would slim down and they would be traveling down one of the three forks towards their destination. It would be Blue Fork, she knew, that would lead them to Fairmarket. Sandor, being as tall as he was, could sit on the railing. His arms were crossed as he faced the shore they just left.

The orange sky bounced off the rippling water. After taking in the view Myrna began to find herself more at ease and now rested her arms on the pine railing. "Why don't you turn around and look?" she spoke to Sandor.

He grunted. "I've seen water before," he replied flatly.

"Just do it," she insisted.

Uncrossing his arms he turned his body to face the water. He remained silent, but Myrna could tell he enjoyed the sunset. The glow brightened his face and she could see the burned flesh easily through pieces of his brown hair. Myrna found something else to look at, feeling impolite. On the other side of Sandor she saw a pair of arms using the paddle to push the ferry forward. After peeking behind her she saw the friendly old scarred man was paddling on the other side so she assumed it was the captain.

"I just remembered something," Sandor rasped.

Myrna looked up at the mass of scarred tissue on his face since he did not care to face her. "What is it?"

"Before my father died he took me out on one hunting trip since I came of age where boys should learn how," he looked down but then back up. "He killed a boar with Gregor. I was pissed that I had no part of it, but he promised me next time I could help. A bloody empty promise that turned out to be. But we were on the edge of the continent. We were along the sunset sea as the sun began to set after that long day. It reminds me of this…" he ended his story.

"Make you homesick?" she asked.

He cackled. "Fuck no. I hated my father, and I'd spit on his grave if I ever happened upon it. Plus Gregor had to come with us that day and ruin any chance of me actually killing anything…" Then his tone turned doleful. "He deserved to be killed after hiding what happened. Choosing to protect Gregor instead of me. Or rather his chance at _knighthood_…"

"So you really believe Gregor killed your parents?"

"As sure as you are that your brother killed yours," he assured her. "Right?" he finally looked at her.

After holding onto his gaze for a moment she looked down at the water below them. That was something she hated to be reminded of. Sure, it was fair of him to bring up her past after her being so nosey but she had actually _witnessed_ it. He did not. Not wishing to start an argument, especially being stranded on a ferry with strangers surrounding them, she did not comment on that.

Just as quick as the orange hue had glowed in the west, it began to dim. It faded into a blueish haze and soon that haze turned into the black of night. Everyone on the ferry had remained peaceful. People started sitting down one by one, including them, and getting into comfortable positions for resting or sleep. Every so often you might have heard the soft noise of a whisper but no more. By now the ferry had caught onto the current of the approaching river they were going to enter soon and Myrna saw the lands closing in around them as they started to exit the bay. The captain and her old acquaintance no longer peddled and were, too, resting. They held a quiet chat as they sat side by side at the very end of the ferry. To her they seemed to be old friends.

Myrna's eye was caught on a glow in the distance from the north. When she turned to face it and grab one of the lower wooden rails she saw it was the glow of small fires throughout a small town in the distance. "Must be the Salt Pans," she said in a low voice.

Sandor was leaning his back against the railing and had his eyes closed. He opened them when he heard her and gave her a sideways glance. "Sleep is more important than sightseeing," he mumbled as he closed his eyes and adjusted himself.

Feeling stupid for even opening her mouth, she slid back into her former sitting position but now decided to lay down completely since there was room for it. Every time the ferry would rock harder than normal it would wake her and she could hear _gloop_ noises under her from the waves. _Will I ever have a comfortable nights rest?_ Myrna became agitated and rolled to try and sleep on her other side but she found it difficult to.

Myrna tried to picture in her head what her tiny lodge in the village looked like during her stay there over a year ago. It was only sixteen by twenty feet, but the second level gave her more space to work with. The one window was placed on the left side of the home where the small table sat. In the middle where you walked in the front door made of pine panels was the fire place made of gray stone. Then the last thing she vaguely remembered was the straw mattress that sat on a pinewood bedframe. Myrna wondered if that was where they would end up living if they accepted her once more.

When she asked why they were being so generous at her first arrival, they explained to her with tears in their eyes how their daughter about her age succumbed to a high fever and now the place was empty. Their daughter lived there until she fell ill and her parents took her in where they raised her. Days later she died battling the sickness she had. It saddened her, but wondered if she was ever used by them. _Did they think of me as a replacement for their daughter?_ She continued to let her thoughts run_. _A tear dropped from the corner of her eye and onto the floor of the ferry as she thought about her real mother but that was all she would allow before falling asleep.

By the time her eyes opened she witnessed birds flocking overhead against a chilly blue sky. After lying there staring up at the sky for a moment she went to sit up to find her back in great pain from sleeping on such a hard surface. Adding the unnaturally deformed skin on her back from her old burn it only added more to the discomfort. Eventually she sat on her rear and she reached her arm around her backside to rub her back as best she could manage while she surveyed the ferry. She was the last to wake, and it seemed almost as if it were already noon.

"Gods, how long did I sleep?" she stopped rubbing her back to rub her eyes.

Sandor replied to her. "Too long. Take this," he reached out one of the same oat breads they had eaten back at the inn towards her and she took it. "They passed it out this morn," he elaborated.

After taking a bite she looked at him. He was sitting in the same spot as last night, seeming to not have moved an inch. Some footsteps came her way and it was her acquaintance with the scar. He smiled down at her. "Good morning," he said in a teasing tone. "I wanted to wake youse up earlier, but erm, your friend here was a little distrustful of me I think…" he turned his attention to Sandor.

"I know what is best for her," Sandor growled at the man.

The man put his hands up in the air. "I'm sure, I'm sure…" he returned his gaze to Myrna who did not know how to react to the tension between the two men. "We just entered the Blue Fork. By the end of the day we'll be home," he informed her and gave a bow before walking away.

"Bloody knight," Sandor cursed under his breath but loud enough for Myrna to hear. She feared others heard him as well and gave him a kick with her foot, but not hard. "What? If you like knights so much you should have stayed at King's Landing where you were to marry one," Sandor japed but coldly.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the ferry," Myrna japed back but it was awful and she knew it.

Before Sandor reacted to that poor attempt at a joke he noticed the strain she had on her face and seemed to change what he was originally going to say. "Are you alright?"

"It's nothing…" she replied softly and finished her bread.

"Do you trust me?" he asked her out of the blue.

She blinked. "What do you mean by that?"

"If you trust me, sit closer to me…" he demanded.

Cautiously she scooted closer to him until she sat beside him and once she did his arm rose and went behind her. At first she thought he was going to wrap his arm around her like the night they slept under the bridge before their argument over Sansa but instead his hand pushed deep into her back. His hand traveled around, applying pressure wherever it landed. Truth be told, that was the first time she ever allowed anyone to touch her there since she received her scar. Myrna felt herself flush and search to see if anyone was watching them but no one was. Perhaps they already looked like a couple from the beginning.

"Thank you," Myrna told him as he continued.


	19. Chapter 19

After setting afoot on the shore Myrna still felt a bit rocky despite being on solid ground now. She studied the busy town past the docking area. It was much livelier than Maidenpool. Peasant people made their way up and down alleyways as others tried selling goods under canopies made with colorful, inviting fabric. Before they left the ferry Myrna and Sandor made an agreement with her acquaintance, who she now knew he went by the name of Tod, that in return for some coin he would give them a ride most of the way towards their destination. They accepted, especially Myrna. Her legs still ached from their previous walk through the forest even after their rest traveling on the ferry. Sandor was not too keen on spending so much coin at once.

"You sure it's not walkable?" Sandor complained as the two of them followed Tod down a heavily trafficked pathway.

They moved aside as a cart went rolling by. "If we're walking then you'll have to carry me. I'm not taking one more step if it can be helped," Myrna replied. For a moment she took in how silly he kind of looked, carrying a sword on his belt but wearing no real armor. Just his green-gray tunic and trousers with some muddy boots. Or perhaps she was still not used to seeing him in this fashion.

He went on to tease her, as usual. "You talk big for a tiny thing. You think you can command me like I'm your dog?" he spat.

"By the Gods, I was not commanding you to do anything. I said _if_," she emphasized. "And to be honest, I do not remember the way there. The first time I arrived I was unconscious. They nursed me back to health," she reminded him.

Tod had lead them to a busy inn, but they were not going inside. A few wagons were parked along the side where the main road was, and Tod was fetching his horse from the stable that lied on the other end of the inn. Myrna and Sandor stepped out of the heavy traffic and stood near the wagons. She had caught him eyeing up the entrance of the inn watching people enter and exit. Knowing he was thinking of catching a quick drink she gave him a scolding look that made him frown and she had a taunting tone to her voice. "I thought you wanted to save coin?"

He groaned. "Oh, bugger off…"

Before they could enter another argument Tod crossed them leading a brown and white mare towards his wagon and they followed. Tod instructed them to jump on the wagon that was stacked with wooden boxes, most of them covered in white sheets.

Sandor had to squeeze himself in. It seemed Tod was not expecting more cargo as the wagon was almost filled. There was just enough room for Myrna to sit on the edge and let her skinny legs dangle. When the wagon initially started to move Myrna felt her stomach drop as the jerk almost made her fall off but Sandor grabbed a good hold of the back of her shirt. The horses pace picked up once they finally left the major town and there was no pedestrians to worry of. Myrna could see the rush of the Blue Fork once more now that there were no buildings in the way. Grass fields expanded as far as they could see in every direction. It was like a green sea. They followed alongside the Blue Fork for most of the afternoon.

Despite the sun being high in the sky with only little clouds crawling across it there was a chill in the air. When she went to run her fingers over the wooden hilt of her dagger that was resting under her belt it was cold to touch. Lately she had no use for it, which she preferred.

The wagon came to a slow, creaking stop in just a short hour. Not being able to speak to Tod where she was, Myrna slid off the wagon and landed on her feet. She would have rubbed her sore rear if Sandor had not been right behind her. When she approached the front of the wagon she saw Tod had already been leaning over to speak with them, still sitting at the front seat.

"See this fork in the road?" he pointed in front of them at it. "Youse will be taking the one on the right. I will be heading left. I would say youse will be at Dontin's village 'fore the sun sets. Wish ye good travels! I am sure we will see each other again if youse do stay there!" he waved and ordered his horse to accelerate once more, lugging the full wagon behind it.

They let the wagon roll on by before starting their hike. "Who the hell is Dontin?" Sandor rasped a question.

"The Elder. Thalina is his wife, and they have two children-"

"I just asked who Dontin was, not his whole fucking family," he interrupted.

Myrna pouted. "Everything is going so well. In fact, better than I thought. You can have a better attitude than that," she whined. "The bloody weather is even in favor of us!"

"Oh, good. Why don't we thank the Gods for all the wonderful things they have done for us as of late," Sandor scoffed.

She hesitated but let herself open up. "At least we always had each other," she said quietly and looked straight down the path they were on. Myrna could feel his gaze but he said nothing. She did not expect him to reply to something in that manner.

Soon the road began to slope down. In the far distance a little town was nestled not too far from the Blue Fork. All around it was fields of tall grass and the cool wind would send waves of swaying grass all the way down the hill and past the town. It was too far to tell, but it seemed no people wandered the small streets within it. Myrna would not judge yet, but Sandor decided to put his word in.

"I have never been here before but I don't think this is the place," his voice a deep, concerning tone.

She sighed. "Let us get closer before we jump to any conclusions…"

Both of them picked up their pace. Myrna's legs felt heavy and strained. All she wished for was her old home within this town that she was sure she lived in. Sandor tried to hide it but she could hear his labored breathing.

"Do we need to slow down?" she fairly asked him but Sandor took it as a jab. He scowled and ignored her question, only to pick up his pace more and going ahead of her. Myrna made a disgruntled noise and tried to stay close behind him by picking up even more speed with her tired legs.

As the town grew larger from the distance closing in between them she instantly recognized the town. "This is it!" Myrna exclaimed from behind him as she approached one of the tiny village's entrances. Sandor entered and then she did shortly after. It was merely an opening of the low wooden railing that bordered the outermost lodges. When she entered she could not help but take in the feeling of a ghost town. Initially not seeing anybody while they were still outside the village did not bother her but now she was wandering amidst the place and still no one was there.

Sandor called out to her as he neared the other end of the village while she was peering through a foggy window of a small house. When she hurried along and followed his finger at what he pointed at she was confused. They saw a crowd and smoke rising near them beyond the northern entrance. All they could do was investigate and so they did. They made their way through the village and out the northern entrance towards where the people had gathered. Myrna stared hard at them, but doubted she could tell if she knew any of them just by looking at their backsides, except for maybe one person. They all faced north and once they were close enough they saw the source of the smoke.

"A funeral pyre," Sandor stopped as he noted that and so did Myrna.

Myrna put her hand to her chest. "I hope it's not the elder's wife. She was our ticket in," she explained.

"How old was she?" he asked.

"Old enough that I would not be surprised if she had died," she sounded sad.

"Hmph. Standing here is not doing us any good. Go over there and see if you can recognize anybody."

"What? Just interrupt a funeral?"

"It's not interrupting if you are as friendly with these people as you claim to be. Don't you want to say goodbye if it is someone you know?"

That made her think. "Fine. Wait here," she told him and stepped towards the crowd.

Myrna entered with one shoulder leading the way to squeeze between the outer ring of people. Then she broke through the next ring, and the next and soon she was able to make out the stacks of flaming wood that were tied together with an outline of a body lying within the flame. She could not tell who it was.

When she took a peek at some of the faces around her she thought she recognized some of them, but they were not people she had talked to regularly. Now that she was within the crowd she was puzzled at the amount of people that were there. _There's no way this is just the villagers. People must have come from other places._ That thought scared her more. This was no common peasant that died. What if the elder's wife really did die?

A loud sob drew some attention towards the front, including Myrna's. It was loud but soft. A woman's cry. Trying to look between the heads of the people in the way she tried to see who it was. With that failing, she decided to close in. Once again she excused herself and threaded herself between people, trying to keep her head down to avoid bothering anyone more than she was. From behind she saw a frail old lady with her thin gray hair tied back in a long pony tail that reached her tailbone. That long pony tail told her what she needed to know.

_She's alive_, Myrna stopped and found herself smiling. Yet, as soon as she smiled she frowned again. Someone still had passed away and she doesn't know who it was. She watched from afar the lady that took her in a few years back with her face in her hands. Not wanting to interrupt any more than she had, she decided to return to Sandor and wait for the crowd to disperse. Since no speeches were being made they assumed this was the end of the funeral and any time now people would be going back home. They were correct, and people circled around them as they trickled up the hill towards the village. Some headed in other directions, probably people who had visited from nearby villages as Myrna had assumed. They stood there for some time before the old lady finally started to wander back towards the village. When Myrna's eyes connected with hers she could see the surprise visibly appear on her worn face.

"Oh, Gods. I must be seeing things," she put her damp handkerchief over her mouth as she blinked her gray eyes with heavy wrinkles and spots formed around them. "Ina?"

Myrna smiled at the familiar face and approached with her arms opening for an embrace. "I've missed you, Thalina!" and her embrace was returned by the old woman.

Thalina found the strength to grab Myrna by the arms after their hug and gave her a look from toe to head. "What in seven hells happened to you, my child!? Oh, and your clothes. It is as if you have been sleeping in mud the past few weeks! And if I may say it smells like it, too…" she wrinkled her nose.

Not knowing where to begin, she shook her head. "I can explain later. But first…" she looked off to the pyre. "Who died?"

"My husband…" Thalina softly replied.

"I'm so sorry," Myrna embraced her once more. "Is there anything I can do?"

The old woman shook her head. "We have decided that our eldest son, Ryler, will be our new elder. It's only fitting," she explained. "There is some problems we have, but… oh that can wait for another time. You're back. The Gods have not left me alone…" she began to tear up again. Then her head perked up when she looked beyond Myrna. "What is he doing here?"

Myrna looked back at Sandor and saw him look at Thalina. "I've never met you, woman…"

"I know who you are, though. That burn. You're the late king's guard dog," she explained.

Before Myrna began to defend him, she played back what Thalina had just said. "What do you mean the _late_ king?"

"Oh, don't you know child? The news spread quickly. King Joffrey is dead. Prince Tommen is said to take his place on the throne!"

_Joffrey's dead..._ Her and Sandor both looked at each other in disbelief. _Joffrey's really dead!_ That news brought joy to her. She wished to know the details but right now she was not Myrna Beaumont. Right now she was never captured and brought to Joffrey to be a play thing along with Sansa Stark. She was Ina Rivers, and Ina Rivers has no business with King Joffrey Baratheon, dead or alive. "How sad," she faked her sorrow.

"Ina, I heard he was not a person to be missed!" she laughed at that.

_If only you knew_. Myrna forced a polite smile. She decided now it was best to switch topics. "We need a place to stay, Thalina… You are our last chance to have a place to call home!" Thalina squinted at Sandor. Myrna knew Sandor was probably glaring back at the old lady without even needing to look. Unfortunately Sandor seemed to be right all along and that he could not pass as someone else. His burn was well known even to people out in the middle of nowhere. "I will explain everything if you take us back to the village," she pleaded.

"You are always welcome, Ina. I am just not too sure how having The Hound around will benefit us. We are not looking to become involved in wanted criminals," she crossed her arms, handkerchief still in her wrinkly hand.

"If it weren't for him I'd be dead," she informed Thalina. It was true, but they obviously could not tell the real story if Thalina ever asked. If Sandor had never broke her out of Kings Landing she'd be married to Gregor and would have ended up like the rest of his wives. For a moment Myrna wondered what happened to Gregor. Probably out searching for them, surely. Will he ever stop hounding her?

Thalina made a humming sound before replying. "If this is true, I owe you, ser…"

Before Sandor could open his mouth Myrna said it for him. "He's not a knight, Thalina. No need to say that title," she smiled at him. He closed his mouth and his ruined side of his face twitched, as if he could tell he was being teased by her.

They were lead back to the village. Thalina welcomed them into her home which was quite larger than the other houses that surrounded it and it was in the very heart of the village. When they first entered the smell of rabbit stew pleased her nose and made her belly growl. Her eyes traveled the interior of Thalina's home to see if it had changed over the past year of her absence. She had spent a lot of time in here when she was healing from her malnourishment. She blocked out the painful memories that lead her to coming here in the first place.

Thalina's fireplace was made of beautiful stone and was easily the best spot in the place. A painting of Elder Dontin hung over the mahogany mantel with candles lit in a row underneath it. Directly in front of the fireplace was her dining table made out of fine mahogany wood with four matching chairs, two on opposing sides. Way off to the very left of the room were the stairs that lead up to the second floor where they slept and stored various things such as the wooden bath tubs. Early in her previous stay that was where she was kept, resting on one of the feather filled mattresses. To the right of the fireplace was the small kitchen area and another smaller table and rocking chair that sat by a large window.

When Sandor went to grab one of the chairs and pull it out Thalina made a loud gasp. "Oh, wait! Not that chair…" she reached her hands out towards Sandor. He let go of it and gave her a puzzled stare and looked to Myrna for guidance.

"That was her husband's chair…" Myrna recalled and informed him, grabbing a chair on the other side of the table and sat down.

The awkward encounter left everyone quiet, and Sandor walked around the table to sit next to Myrna as Thalina fixed up bowls of rabbit stew for them. A knock on the door gained their attention and Thalina wiped her hands down her skirt. "I am so sorry. Ina, can you bring the bowls to you and your friend? I fear this will be happening a lot lately. Everyone is worried about me, I assume…"

Nodding, Myrna stood up and went to fetch the two small wooden bowls of steaming stew that had a metal utensil in each one. It looked so delicious. When she turned around with one bowl in each hand she saw Thalina opening the door and stepping out slightly to speak to someone. Myrna placed Sandor's bowl in front of him before sitting down with hers. He hastily grabbed it and began stuffing his face. It was their first hot meal in a long time. Even though Myrna was hungry, she did not eat as quick for her attention kept being drawn to Thalina standing at the door.

"Is this where you lived?" he asked now that they had a moment, mouth full of food.

Myrna swallowed what she had before answering. "For a short time while I was ill. When I recovered she gave me her daughter's lodge," she quietly responded, not wanting Thalina to hear her and think of another family member she had lost. "She died young…"

"Hm," was all he had to say about that and kept putting big spoonfuls of stew in his mouth.

Finally the door closed and Thalina made her way back towards the table with a small smile with something in her hand. When she placed it down on the table Myrna saw it was some type of pie. "People here are so sweet. Do you remember Rosie and her husband, Ina? They made me this pie," Thalina pulled a chair out and sat down with a sigh of relief. "Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. If you want, you can have your old place back. We did house some travelers in there for a few moons but they had to leave. A good thing, after all, now that you are back," she smiled a little more.

"And he's welcomed, too?" Myrna asked sternly.

Sandor looked at Myrna and then at Thalina. Thalina seemed to be bothered by it, but Myrna felt it was more than just him being The Hound. She could not put her finger on it, but in any way she was relieved with Thalina's response. "Yes. He's welcomed in this village, for now…"

It worked. Their plan actually work. They now had a roof over their head and food every day. All these positive filled thoughts flooded through her head and they were reality. Myrna could not help but grin. "Thank you so much, Thalina. You have no idea how happy this makes me!"

"No need to thank me," she directed her smile at Myrna. "Now, finish up. I have something to give you when you're done.

Their meal was peaceful and plentiful. When Sandor took his last bite he dropped his spoon in the wooden bowl and stretched his legs as he sat. Soon after Myrna finished but as she was about to put her spoon down the entrance door swung open harshly so she dropped it in her bowl out of fright. Sandor straightened up and put his hands on the table as if ready to charge at the intruder but it turned out to be a false alarm.

"Oh, Ryler! You've finally returned," Thalina, who was sitting by the large window, sat up and went to give her son a warm hug but his eyes were on them and did not respond to his mother.

He had grown more masculine since the last time she had seen him. They were never ones to talk much, but Myrna was around him plenty as she helped Thalina so often before. He had dirty blonde hair that reached his shoulders and the same gray eyes his mother had. Ryler would help with hard work out in the fields, so his skin was a few shades darker than his parents. Today he was not dressed for field work but had on the nicest clothes he probably owned for his father's funeral. Myrna could not recall seeing him there, however. It was strange to think now this young man was to be the new elder of this village.

"Ina's back?" he asked but it was difficult to discern who he was talking to. His mother replied anyway, putting her rejected arms down.

"Why, yes. Isn't that lovely? And we have some more muscle, too, for the village…" she was referring to Sandor. Myrna caught the hint that maybe she was going to keep his identity a secret for a while from the others if they did not know. "Why don't you show him around? I need to speak to Ina alone," she smiled cautiously at them.

Not wanting to be rude Myrna turned to Sandor. "I will find you after," she calmly told him.

It was obvious he did not want to part ways but they had little choice if they wanted to please their hosts. Sandor let out a sharp exhale through his nose and scooted the chair back as he stood up. Ryler gave Ina one final rigid stare before turning his back to them and left again, Sandor at his trail. Thalina was already fumbling through this small box she had sitting against a wall as they left and walked towards Myrna when she found something.

"I made this for you, before you disappeared. I finished it in hopes you would return one day and wear it. That there was just some mistake. Looks like I was right," Thalina held a folded up piece of clothing in her bony, wrinkled hands. When she unfolded it a skirt fell, and she pinched the top of the sleeves to hold it up. It was a plain dark green dress with fluted sleeves and some lacing in the back, but that was almost as best as you could do for a small town like this. It was almost as nice as the old lady's clothes, Thalina being part of the head family here.

_A dress…_ Myrna felt like frowning but she made herself smile. "How lovely," she complimented it but she did not want to wear it. The only reason she would right now was to get out of her currently filthy clothes. Perhaps she could wash them on the next laundry day and then wear them again.

When Thalina handed Myrna the dress she grabbed her arm. It surprised Myrna. "You know… with you here again… it feels like I have a daughter again," she sounded doleful. A peasant life was hard. You often lost people. No one cares if you are sick or dying. Myrna pitied her, and wanted to comfort her, but she could not be someone else's daughter.

"You will see your daughter again someday. I promise," Myrna gently removed Thalina's hands off of her without letting go of the dress.

Thalina looked down at the floor and held herself. "I… Yes, I know, Ina… I know…" she croaked.

"Thank you so much for this dress," Myrna expressed her thanks again so she would not come off so harsh.

It seemed Thalina did not hear her, or maybe did not want to hear. "Ina, you just missed bath night I am afraid. Won't have another for at least a week or so. I hope you remember your way to the pond? I don't mean to sound unkind but…"

"No, it is fine. I know I must not smell that… wonderful…" she held the dress closer to her and now she was the one looking down at her feet.

They said their farewells and Myrna agreed to come back to her house once she was finished. Once Myrna pushed the door open she noticed the sun was slowly beginning to set in the west. Not knowing where Ryler took Sandor Myrna decided to bathe first. In a way she was looking forward to some peace away from people.

Myrna walked her way through the Northern exit and looked at the field where everyone had gathered. Now no one was near the pyre. The smoke had decreased and the wood seemed to have almost collapsed on one another from burning so long. She wondered if they would return tomorrow for his remains. Turning her head away from the sight, she headed west towards the setting sun through tall blades of grass. The brightness of the sun made her need to squint her eyes. The pond was not so easy to see from a distance, for there was literally nothing around it except grass. She knew the walk was not too long if she just followed the sun.

Eventually she stumbled upon it. The blades of grass ended and there was a patch of dirt before the edge of the water. There was no shore, just a drop. She had never actually bathed in here before. The only reason she ever came here was to just fetch pails of water for the bath tub. It could be too deep for her. Myrna sat crossed-legged and sat her dress and dagger down next to her until a shuffle behind her made her turn her head around.

"What are you doing here!? You're supposed to be taking a tour with Ryler," she questioned.

Sandor ignored her and began to take off his shirt, and then his trousers. Myrna had no choice but to look down at the dirt until she heard the water splash as he entered. It was as she suspected that the water was deeper than she could handle when she looked back at him. Sandor was only a couple feet in and the water rose up to his waist. Also she took note of his shoulder. It was still bruised and looked painful but he never complained about it.

"What do you think? I followed you. There's no way in the Seven hells I'm letting you wander out on your own when you just told me some guy kidnapped you in this area," he boasted. "You can bathe, too. Don't be shy. I've seen naked women before," he splashed his arms and chest.

Myrna outright refused but her tone was not as sharp as it would have been if he had not shown some compassion just now. "Whores, you mean. You ought to treat me with more respect. I just found us a place to stay!" When she said that out loud it made her think of him sleeping with the whores in Kings Landing, or wherever he stayed. Every man did sleep with whores at some point. It was common. Right now she noticed that the thought bothered her. _He has coin now…_ she remembered as she saw the pouch sitting on top of the dirty trousers lying near her and recalled there being a small brothel in Fairmarket. _Would he…?_

He approached her for what she thought was to argue with her at a closer range, but he reached out for her waist and grabbed hold of her. In a second she was pulled in and the freezing temperature of the water electrified her. For a second she was submerged, and she flailed hard enough to get her head over the surface of the water. Myrna let out a fear filled scream and clutched her arms around his bare, slippery waist. Her feet searching for something to stand on. Since her eyes were closed she could not see Sandor but she felt his massive hands grab hold of her again by her waist and lift her up. She adjusted herself to grab him around his neck. "What is this? Can you not swim? Oh, that's bloody sweet," he grinned wickedly.

"Put me back on the ground right now!" she yelled at him, wet hair sticking to her face. That only made him go deeper. Now the water really was up to his shoulders and she had to be face levelled with him as she hung on. Her heart palpitated as she surveyed the water surrounding her. Right now her clothes were absolutely soaked and weighed her down. Then there was the thought of his _lack_ of clothing and how close she was to him. But if Sandor was not there, she would be drowning. "This is torture," she whined.

"This is _fun_. Why are all Northern women afraid of a little fun?"

"In the North our lakes are frozen so we don't swim," sarcasm found its way out of her despite her fear. Something in her made her look at him in the eyes. Another fluttery feeling overwhelmed her, but she felt this more in her stomach than her chest.

He had a soft gaze right now. It was a look she had seen rarely. Like the time they exchanged looks back when they were caught at Kings Landing and were forced to be separated. When he looked that way it seemed he longed for something. "Alright. I might have gone too far. If you really want to go back I'll take you there," he whispered, but it came out hoarse.

Myrna suddenly felt the urge to stay. Perhaps she missed the way he looked at her like how he was right now. She shook her head. "We can stay a little while longer. After this I'll be forced to put a dress on anyway…"

His good eye widened at her answer. "Aye," he agreed.


	20. Chapter 20

Never had she ever thought she would be in this position… hanging onto a naked man to prevent herself from drowning.

"Buggering hells…" Sandor cursed quietly even though Myrna felt she should be the one to curse.

They were still in the pond. He was beginning to act odd and Myrna hung on as tight as she could. She looked him in the face but he would not return any looks. "Is something wrong?" she decided to finally say something.

He grinded his teeth. The good part of his face was facing her as he looked off to the side at nothing. At first when he pulled her in he seemed playful. He laughed at her but in a way that seemed unthreatening. As if a friend had seen you slip and fall and they let out a chuckle before helping you.

The reels in his head were turning and he thought hard before he spoke. "I just… oh, seven hells… I did all of this because I just wanted to say something to you in private but now I don't know if I can," he grumbled.

That peaked her curiosity greatly. "Oh? What do you want to tell me?"

"Well… erm…" he muttered so low it was barely audible what he was saying even though she was right in front of his face.

Myrna grew impatient. "Tell me," she insisted.

He became grouchy. "Fuck. I'm no good at these things. Never mind!" he began walking towards the ground where his clothes laid, breaking through the water.

"No, wait. Please. Just tell me," she kept begging but he was no longer listening to her. Sandor lifted her up, clothes dripping everywhere, and sat her on the dirt. When he came out himself Myrna did not look away. Her shyness had disappeared, but she also did not have indecent thoughts. Right in front of her was his manhood but she paid no attention to it. What weighed on her mind was some sort of confession she almost had from him. Myrna grunted as she stood up quickly to confront him one last time. Her black wet hair dripped everywhere and her drenched clothes made it difficult to move but she paid no mind to that either. When he bent down to reach for his trousers she grabbed his shoulder and made him look at her. Red, scarred skin met her inches away from her face. "Tell me," she said in a soft voice.

Sandor looked her down. "Put on your dry clothes before you get sick," he ordered and returned to dressing himself. Seeing she was not getting anywhere she gave up and went to find the dress she put down somewhere. Disappointment tugged at her. Their relationship was something she had been trying to figure out since the first time they left Kings Landing. Both of them were so quick to anger. Both of them held onto a grudge that forbids them from completely opening up to anyone. Myrna never saw herself being in love like a maiden in a song. That was beginning to change, or maybe all of this was some sort of delusion in her head.

First she took off her boots and peeled off her red trousers. The sensation was gross, and the night that was closing in on them made the air chilly. Her legs were really cold and clammy. Since her undergarment was wet, too, she decided to peel that off as well. Last was her brown tunic was thrown off. When she picked up the green dress off the ground she brushed the dirt off of it and turned to see what Sandor was doing. He was sitting down, facing away from her. He looked like he was sulking.

After loosening the laces on the back she crawled through the skirt and pulled it down at her waist until it was all the way down. Her hands were just able to reach the lacing in the back and she knew she did a poor job at tying it but she did not care that much. Afterwards Myrna was impressed. The fit was almost perfect. It really was made just for her and she would even go the length to say it almost made her like dresses again. The neckline was in a shape of a square so some skin showed but not as much as a deep v cut would, which she often would wear when she was down at Kings Landing. Her slim waist was predominant in this dress thanks to the lacing and the skirt was extra flowy. She also loved the deep green color as it complimented her fair skin and dark hair. Myrna wondered if Thalina planned that.

She swooped up her damp clothes and tucked them underneath one arm. Then she put her dagger inside one of her damp boots and picked them up. She began walking barefoot towards the giant, sitting man once she was ready. "Are you ready to see our new home?" she asked as if nothing had happened to them. They had yet to see where Myrna actually lived, in Thalina's old daughter's lodge. It was not too far from Thalina's home.

Before she reached him he was already standing up. When he turned he almost spoke, but he left his mouth hanging open when he saw her. Any sulkiness he was experiencing disappeared. Myrna gave him an assertive stare almost as if she was proud of how she looked. When she put on the dress she felt nice, but now with Sandor's uncontrollable stare she actually felt pretty for once.

"You never looked at me like that back at King's Landing," Myrna teased.

Sandor managed a small smile. "You never noticed…" That made her blink and look away. _Is he being serious?_ _No, he can't. He liked Sansa back then. That was obvious. _Her thoughts were interrupted when he towered her and picked her up while changing the subject. "Since you're too good to wear wet shoes I guess I need to carry you back," he sounded a little annoyed but Myrna could hear sarcasm in his voice.

"You're the one who got them wet in the first place," she informed him as she broke out in a smile of her own.

Her arm locked around his neck as the other held onto her traveling outfit and boots by pinching the inner sides of them together with her fingers. By now it was dark, but the town had a glow to it by the fires being lit in small homes. Also the stars were out. There wasn't a single cloud in the night sky. The flat land around them made them feel surrounded by stars. Myrna forgot how pretty it was. She could not stop looking up at the sky as Sandor walked them back to their new home. It was not a long walk, so soon they approached an entrance and he put her down on her feet. Myrna thanked him and felt the dirt squish beneath her feet as he followed her into town. The small roads were empty. When they made it to the most inner road they saw Thalina standing outside her home further down. They were already standing outside their lodge as it was the first one on this road, but Myrna felt the need to go down and speak to her.

"It's right here. You can go in, I will be there soon. Okay?" she spoke up at him. He nodded and walked around her, opening the door and walking in. Myrna watched his back disappear into the darkness of the lodge and she approached the old woman who looked lost. "Thalina?" she called out to her.

"Oh! My dear Ina! I was so worried! _So_ worried! You promised you would come back here when you were done!" she began scolding her like a child. Myrna had completely forgotten that she had told Thalina she would return to her house immediately.

"I'm so sorry! I forgot…" Myrna trailed off not really wanting to say more. What would she say? That she was with a naked man in the pond all that time? It sounded bad but nothing really happened. Sandor and she just talked.

Thalina seemed to calm herself down. "Well, now that I know you are safe, everything is alright. You know, I was going to say, you remember that bed I have upstairs that is hardly used? It's still not being used. Why don't you spend the night with Ryler and I like old times? Hm?" her wrinkled face grinned.

How could Myrna decline as respectfully as possible? She did not want Sandor to be alone in a strange place. That was her real reason for not wanting to go. If she did say that she might come off as his woman, and that might not sit well with Thalina. Sandor and she were complicated anyway and coming out as his woman would be half untrue. "Thalina, thank you. It's just… I really missed that old lodge down there. It felt like my own cozy home…" she tried to word her excuse carefully.

"Oh. I see. And your friend, The Hound? Is he there?" she asked in a monotone voice.

Myrna could not lie about that. Anyone could go in there and see him sitting in there. "Yes," was all she said.

"Oh. I see. Yes. I see now. Well, go on. I will see you tomorrow, yes?" she grinned again but not as wide as before. Then she waddled back inside her own large lodge. Myrna felt guilty.

"That didn't go so well, did it?" she talked to herself as she turned back around and made it back to her old place. For a second she stopped and stared at it. It had been over a year since she had walked inside. By the darkness of it, it seemed Sandor had not attempted to light the fireplace. Myrna pushed open the pine paneled door and stepped through the black wall that covered the entrance. "Sandor?" she called out into the dark.

"Aye?" she heard him respond in the corner where the mattress should be.

_How in the hells did he find the bed in this pitch darkness?_ Myrna rolled her eyes and dropped her clothes and boots down next to the door. "I'll light the fire," she closed the door behind her and snatched her dagger out of her boot that she dropped it in and walked straight ahead a couple steps. Myrna began to search for the flint. When she found it after feeling around the mantle where it normally was she began to try to light a fire on some wood that was left inside the fireplace. Myrna felt to make sure there was some there before striking the flint against her blade. It took a couple tries for a spark to catch but once it did the room slowly began to glow little by little. Once she was done she put the flint back and watched the flame. Within the fireplace was a cast iron stand to hold a pot of stew if she ever wanted to cook some. She had used it before.

"This place is bloody small," Sandor complained from the corner.

Myrna could see him now that there was some light. He took up most of the bed as he had to bend his legs so they wouldn't hang off the end. This was the first time she thought about that. There was only one bed in here and it wasn't that big. "It's better than nothing. Besides, it was perfect when it was just me…"

"Should I leave then?" he turned his head as he lied on the mattress.

Myrna approached the bed. "No, but you can make room for me," she crossed her arms.

He still could not help but let his eyes glide down her body. Then he had an unexpected frown. Myrna felt she did something wrong. Sandor turned on his side, facing the wall and made a little room for her. Then she frowned herself. When she crawled into bed she was just able to lie on her back and stare up at the ceiling. When she turned her head to the left she saw his massive back facing her. In fact they were so close her left shoulder touched him. Part of her wished he would face her instead of the wall. She still was very curious about what he wanted to tell her back at the pond. Today was only the first day, and Myrna prayed they had many more to come.

…

Everything grew boring quickly. Myrna's first job back was to patch and hem some clothing for a family on the other side of the street. Thalina had told them to drop the clothes off at her place and she sent Myrna to work. Trousers and dresses were thrown on the dining table as Myrna sat threading needle through the current item. It was a small shirt, probably for a child. She knew the Woods family had a child and guessed this was their pile. When she would stop working on the shirt to look at how much she had left to do she made a whiney noise.

Thalina was busy cooking in the kitchen corner of the room and she must have heard Myrna complain. She let out a cackle. "Oh, Ina. It is not that bad," she sneered as she stirred her stew. Then she looked as she remembered something and began waddling towards Myrna. "Don't you know what tomorrow is?" Thalina questioned with an excited expression.

Myrna was truly clueless and stared down at her hands as she continued to sew. "No, I am afraid not…"

Thalina laughed. "It's the eleventh day of the fifth moon! Your name day! I remembered. Surprised you did not even notice your own name day approaching," she wondered.

Honestly Myrna had not paid attention to the days at all this past year at Kings Landing and traveling with Sandor. She glanced at Thalina. "Oh, I feel so silly now… I did not even know my own name day was approaching," she blushed.

"You will be twenty-two, correct?" Thalina guessed right and she went back to check on her food.

_An even older maid now_, Myrna felt even sillier now as she tried to occupy her mind by going back to work.

Thalina continued to banter but her tone grew a little sad. "I would celebrate your name day tomorrow, Ina, but I figured out a better idea. You see, the town is throwing a final celebration for my late husband and we are also going to celebrate my son becoming the new elder the day _after_ your name day. Why not throw your name day celebration into the mix as well, hm? Your name day will be just a little belated but it will be fine," she sounded like the decision was already made so Myrna shortly agreed with her without taking her eyes off the shirt.

"Sounds beautiful, Thalina…" Myrna softly replied.

"Also, Ryler will probably announce his engagement with Rosie's daughter at the party. Do you remember her, Ina? I believe she is a couple years younger than you. Her name is Katherine," she informed Myrna.

Myrna did try to remember and she believed she knew who Thalina was talking about. After everything she went through it was starting to get a little fuzzy in her mind about the locals around here. "I hope they have a happy marriage," Myrna smiled at Thalina but she looked troubled.

"Lately they are having problems, I have to admit… but it's nothing any other couple hasn't gone through. I remember Dontin and I used to fight like the devils. Oh, if only I could have one more argument with him…" Thalina grew sadder.

"So it's normal to fight with the one you love?" Myrna asked putting the needle down.

Thalina's thinning eyebrows went up. "Yes, Ina. If you don't then something is wrong with the two of you," she cackled again. "But you have to be careful if children are in the picture. Ryler and Tysa hated it when we argued. Perhaps we could have been better parents…"

"Don't say that," Myrna blurted out.

The subject immediately changed as Thalina wiped away a tear. "So, Tysa's old lodge is still working for you?" Thalina questioned.

"It was always nice. Thank you again for letting us in…"

They heard a ruckus outside. People's voices overlapped and outside the window they saw a crowd begin to form. It was right outside Thalina's house. "Gods, what has happened now?" Thalina brushed her hands off on her skirt and made her way towards the door but it opened before she could reach it and the clamor of voices grew loud. Inside came Ryler being assisted by Sandor. Both of the men were sweaty, and when the door closed behind them the noise from the street muted. When Myrna got a closer look she saw Ryler's pants had been ripped from the knee down and were bloody. There was a limp in his step which was why Sandor had to help him walk home she assumed. Thalina screamed and touched her sons face as she peered down at his knees. "What happened to you!?"

"He… saved me, mother," he coughed and looked up at Sandor. Sandor did not look back and said nothing. He looked at Myrna almost as if he wanted help.

Myrna put down her needle carefully before lightly picking up the skirt of her dress so she can make her way to the three people in a hurry. "What exactly happened?"

"First put him down somewhere. Please! Oh, Ryler. You shouldn't scare me like this, not now…" Thalina rambled as she walked next to her son as Sandor set him down on one of the dining room chairs. He seemed relieved to be rid of Ryler and went to stand next to Myrna.

"The boy was unloading the cart in the field when a wheel broke and it toppled on him. I picked it off of him," Sandor recited briefly what happened. There was still beads of sweat rolling down his face from being out in the field helping the other men in the town.

Ryler still looked at Sandor as if he were amazed. "You should have seen it, mother. He picked up that whole bloody cart by himself! The Gods have sent him to us, I know it!" he boasted and had more enthusiasm than any other time Myrna could recall. He was usually a quiet boy who rarely showed emotion.

"Oh, for fucks sake…" Sandor whispered and looked up.

Myrna nudged Sandor and scolded him with her eyes then turned her focus back on the mother and son. "It doesn't seem too bad from what I can see," she said hoping to reassure the neurotic old woman after she took a couple steps closer to Ryler. "Do you have bandages?"

"Can you clean him up?" Thalina clasped her hands together.

Soon after they were able to gather supplies for her to clean up his wounds. His trousers had to be cut so she could work on his knees. _Another article of clothing I will need to fix later_, Myrna thought annoyingly. After cleaning him off with water she bandaged him up. His injuries were small. Ryler just had some deep scrapes and nothing was broken but one ankle was twisted. After explaining that to Thalina and being thanked by Ryler she and Sandor were sent home. It seemed Thalina wanted to be alone with Ryler.

When they entered their lodge Myrna gave Sandor a mischievous smile and he groaned. "Don't even ask me…" he complained.

"But it sounds like you had an interesting day. I want to hear about it," Myrna went to the right and sat on the mattress while Sandor went to the chair that sat by the large window and table.

He looked outside and grumbled. "I'll pass on that…"

Myrna remembered part of the conversation she had with Thalina earlier that day. "Tomorrow's my name day," she announced.

Sandor gave her his attention for a second before looking out the window again. "Congratulations," he said with half enthusiasm.

Myrna pouted. "Really? That's it?"

He groaned before facing her and this time he actually seemed torn. "I have a job to do with some men outside the village. We're leaving soon and we're staying at an inn out at Fairmarket and won't be back until tomorrow night. Trust me, I don't want to travel out there…"

"Wait. Are you sure this is safe? There is a lot of people passing through in Fairmarket. Someone might recognize you and track us down!"

"You don't think I thought of that? But I need to be fucking useful here. Or else we might not be around much longer. Besides, Ryler got his scrawny ass hurt so they _need_ me now," he rasped.

She stood up and began to pace, her green skirt flowing behind her. "Maybe I can speak to Thalina. Perhaps she can arrange some work for you around here instead? I am sure she is grateful for what you did for Ryler and could help you out…"

He shook his head. "It's done, Myrna. I agreed and I don't ever go back on my word," he boomed.

"Fuck your pride. If one of Gregor's pets sees you…" Myrna realized what she said to him and stopped what she was saying. Sandor's expression did not change. "I'm sorry," she apologized.

Sandor made the chair screech against the wooden floor when he stood up and went to sit next to her on the mattress. He reached for her jaw and tightened his grip. Myrna was forced to look at him even though he did not need to do that. "Don't apologize," he rubbed his thumb against her cheek. He stared hard at her. "Do you want to know what I was trying to say yesterday?"

Myrna's eyed widened. "Yes," she immediately replied.

His hand slid down and now touched her neck. Also his eyes went down there, and they were darting around. Myrna could tell he was nervous. "It's bloody stupid. You might not even remember this, but, when we were traveling with that Dornish whore and Arya we stayed at that inn that caught fire. When we first arrived I said something awful to you. And it was a buggering, stupid lie. I never lie but I was so pissed off at you…"

"You mean when you said Sansa was prettier than me? But…" she went to reach for his hand to remove it from her neck and she held it instead. "That's… not a lie…" she looked down at their hands.

A harsh, raspy laugh came from him. "She's very pretty. And I think you're prettier than the little bird. There, I fucking said it so don't be mad at me anymore…"

"I thought _you_ were the one that forgot you ever said that. I apologized for what I said but you never apologized for what _you_ said. I just decided to let it go," Myrna explained.

Sandor defended himself. "I knew I should have apologized. That was a shitty thing for me to do. But when you said you didn't like me that… that was hurtful," he looked down and the pain was clear in his dark eyes.

"I told you I did not mean that. You know that, right?"

He slowly placed his eyes on her again. "One moment we're alright like this, then the next we're at each other's throats. I don't know what to buggering think," Sandor softly rasped.

_Bang. Bang Bang. _Myrna and Sandor looked to the door and their hands no longer held. "You ready in there? We're about to leave for Fairmarket!" a muffled voice of a man yelled from the other side.

"Aye, I'm coming!" Sandor roared so the man could hear. He stood up and so did Myrna. She followed him to the door where he turned back around to stare down at her. "I'm sure the old woman will give you a nice name day tomorrow," he tried to reassure her.

Myrna frowned. "Just be careful," she nervously put her hand up to her chest.

He stared at her a few seconds longer, then turned around and opened the door. Myrna watched him close the door behind him, knowing she probably won't see him for a whole day. She looked forward to seeing him come back home. They were growing. Myrna could feel it.


	21. Chapter 21

Even though her name day was to be celebrated the next day Thalina still spoiled Myrna with iced blue berries and cream that morning before they begun working. Their work was not the usual for they were getting ready for the party. Entertainers were coming down from Fairmarket along with some barrels of beer and wine. There will be a feast later at night, apparently the main dish being peppered boar which was quite extravagant for a simple village, and the baker was awaiting some orders from Thalina for a dessert.

"Ina, I believe apple crisps would be a decent dessert with summer ending and fall creeping up on us poor folk. What do you think?" she talked as she organized vegetables from the gardens their village kept outside the fence on the southern end. Carrots, leaks and other vegetables were lying on the counter Thalina was working on. Myrna believed they were going to be cooked with the boar.

She could not help but smile at Thalina. The woman was filled with life more than ever planning this special occasion. She was getting ready to watch her son take her husband's place. "Shall I tell the baker the dessert will be apple crisps?" Myrna asked as she stepped a little closer to Thalina and straightened out her green skirt. So far her new dress was suiting well with her.

"Yes. Apple crisps will do," Thalina finally decided as she took a long breath. "Go on now. The baker needs time to make them!"

Myrna bowed slightly and walked out Thalina's front door. She was sure she remembered where the baker was and walked down towards her lodge that she was going to pass and turn the corner to go down another lane within the village. The weather was slightly chilly but not enough to make Myrna shudder. It felt more soothing than annoying since she was northern born. Dealing with cold weather was in her blood, unlike the folk around her.

As she hustled past her house on the end of the lane she saw her reflection in the window. Or at least she thought it was her reflection, until she saw it was unmoving. Myrna stopped and squinted inside her home where the small table was with the little wooden chair. Someone was standing there but she could not see their face for it was veiled in the darkness. Then she began to blink and rub her eyes, but the figure remained.

Myrna marched to the front door. She shoved the door open and immediately investigated the left side of her small lodge. Nothing was to be found. Where the person was standing there was no one. "Who is here?" Myrna called out, and looked to the ladder. That was the only way the person could have escaped. However, after Myrna climbed the ladder and explored the small second floor she was positive no one went up there. The floor was covered in dust and it was not disturbed. No foot prints or anything to lead Myrna to believe they had escaped there. After climbing back down Myrna put her hands on her hips and stared around in disbelief. "Oh Seven save me, I'm going crazy…" she then rubbed her temple and began making her way back to the front door when she noticed a book lying under the table.

She got on her knees next to the table and grabbed the book off the ground. After standing back up she sat on her little chair as she examined what she found. Myrna had never seen it before. The cover of the book was made out of worn brown leather but there was no title. When she skimmed through it she saw it was a journal from the pretty handwriting that filled about a quarter of it. The rest was blank.

"I think I'll read you later," Myrna closed the journal and set it down on the table.

Putting what happened behind her, she closed her front door when she walked out and continued to turn the corner and walk down the next lane where the baker was. Myrna walked past a group of girls about her age that were standing at the very edge of the village where they could safely gossip. She recognized one as Katherine, the girl Ryler is supposedly going to marry. Katherine was pretty with golden curls and freckles standing out amongst her pale skin. Her dress was salmon colored and she wore a white bonnet. Although Katherine and the other two girls were pretty they did not come off as friendly. They turned quiet, putting their hands up against their lips to cover what they were saying. Myrna felt vulnerable and ignored their stares. Finally making her way down the next lane she noticed someone standing in her way.

"Ah, Ryler. Aren't you supposed to be in town with the men?" Myrna said when she almost bumped into him but then remembered about the previous day as she looked down at his leg. "Oh, my apologies. How are you feeling?"

Ryler sighed. "Fine," he replied. "I really owe Sandor for helping my sorry arse. Supposed to be a grown man but a bloody cart nearly killed me…"

_So Ryler knows who he is?_ Myrna realized. "Do not say such things. Accidents happen!" she tried to console the depressing man. She decided to change the subject. "Are you excited about tomorrow's celebration? Will you announce your engagement to Katherine? Thalina talks about that a lot," she smiled at him and peeked over her shoulder to see if she could still see Katherine.

His mouth tightened and Myrna worried she brought up a bad subject. "There is no engagement," he said bluntly.

"What? But Thalina said-"

"I know what my mother says. But Katherine and I are just not a good match," he frowned harder and looked down at his injured leg. "Might we go for a stroll, Ina? I swear I'll be alright," he straightened up and began to limp towards the nearest exit of the village which was the one that lead to the pond.

This was not something Myrna wanted to do. She had to push herself to follow him. "Are you sure? I really do not think you should be walking so soon after your injury. Also your mother sent me to speak with the baker," Myrna held her hands in front of her nervously as she looked back towards the village after they exited since Ryler would not stop walking. Katherine and the girls were staring at them as they stood by the fence near the exit they just went through. None of them looked pleased. Myrna's anxiety only heightened.

"Please. Allow me to clear my head. This won't take too long…" Ryler insisted and she picked up her pace so she could be next to him. It was only after a minute or two that Ryler stopped. To her it was clear he was trying to hide that he was out of breath. "Beautiful day," was all he said as he glanced around at the green fields surrounding them. In the north there was a small shimmer from where the Blue Fork roared.

"Yes…" Myrna agreed and just stood there staring at him.

He turned to face her and returned her stare. "I am going to be upfront about this. You and Sandor… you two are not lovers. Am I correct?"

She refused to give him any answers by her expression but it was difficult for her to hide her emotions with her voice. "That's no concern of yours," she replied rather harshly.

"You two are not. I would have seen something by now. A hug. A kiss. But there has been nothing since you two arrived here. So I have a plan, Myrna…"

Myrna could feel this was going to be bad. "I get no say in this plan?"

Ryler continued on as if she had said nothing. "My mother loves you. You remind her so much of Tysa. And you are a beautiful woman. I know not if you are a maid but that matters little to me. If you wish to live here we might as well do what is best for everyone. I need a wife. You are due for a husband. My mother wants her daughter back. If we wed, we all get what we want," he explained.

"It sounds like you are _telling_ me we are getting married!" Myrna yelled at him in disgust. "I have always thought of you as a brother! We shared a home without any attractions such as this! How do you expect me to just suddenly become your wife!?"

Ryler did not seem bothered by her outroar. "Well, I am the elder now. What I say goes. If we do not wed then I see no further use for you or Sandor in my village…"

"How could you be so unfair?" she said in disbelief.

"I am going to announce our engagement tomorrow. To be quite honest I think I am being fair for I am telling you what to expect. Try and look as nice as you can," he said with hardly any emotion in his voice as he began to backtrack back towards to the village. Then he stopped for a moment and turned around. "I almost forgot. Happy name day," he told her and then went back to limping down the trail. Myrna was left speechless.

Before the sun had begun to set the men had finally returned back to the village after almost a whole day had passed. A group was waiting for them by the eastern gate where she and Sandor had initially arrived a few days prior. Myrna went to join them and kept her eye out for Sandor. He was easy to spot, especially once they stopped their two wagons to unload. He was almost twice the size of the other men he was with. That morning Thalina had told Myrna they were out to Fairmarket to bring back what they needed for the celebration. Sandor was the one to carry the barrels of beer inside the village without breaking a sweat. In fact he did most of the unloading for his size made it easy. Myrna sat on the fence and watched him. He had not noticed her until one of the men he was with dismissed him. After finally taking a moment to relax he surveyed the area and spotted her.

"You can't greet me?" he mocked her and approached.

Myrna slid her rear off the low wooden fence. "You were busy, but now you're not. So now I can say hello," she teased him.

He wore his usual hard face. Sandor scowled as he looked at the sunset. "I'm bloody tired. Let's go back to the lodge," he demanded and Myrna followed him back.

Immediately after they entered the door his eye caught what Myrna had left on the table earlier that day. "What's that?"

She had almost forgotten the journal and her strange experience that led her to find it. Myrna decided to not tell him what happened to her. He may think her mad if she did.

"Oh, that. I was cleaning upstairs and found a diary of some sort. Perhaps tonight I'll read it," she grabbed it off the table and examined the brown leather cover. It looked like someone had been rough with it. There were scratches and folds on the leather.

When Myrna looked up from the journal she saw Sandor had made himself comfortable on the bed. He laid close to the wall so there was a small space for her along the outer edge like the night before. "Why don't you read some of it aloud?" he offered.

Myrna scoffed. "You interested in some young girl's fantasy?" she walked on over to the bed and sat on the edge of it, opening it to the first page. "Let's see…" she stared down into the page and read aloud:

_This seems so strange, to write like this. There are no ears to hear _

_my woes so here I am. Writing words on a piece of parchment_

_like some sort of silly girl. Maybe I am just a silly girl. Mother_

_thinks I should feel lucky. I was hand-picked to marry a knight who_

_lives near King's Landing. Mother seems nervous. That makes me_

_nervous, too. He seems to be a well known knight but no one will_

_tell me of him. I tried to speak with those who live outside of the_

_village but they only stare at me. They are such pitiful stares and they_

_pierce through me. I am shaking. I do not want to leave home. It seems_

_I have little choice…_

"How sad…" Myrna commented. She couldn't help but feel empathy towards this girl. In fact she felt as if she could have written this passage herself. Then she recalled the face she saw in the window. For a second she thought it was her reflection, but it turned out to be someone standing in the room looking at her.

Sandor did not seem to care. "It's the same bloody story for most women…"

There was something Myrna had completely missed. The front page was still open from what she had read, but on the inside of the cover a name was carved within it. "Wait one moment. There's a name here… Tysa?" Myrna discovered. "This was Tysa's journal!"

"This was her home before yours, wasn't it? Makes sense you'd find something of hers. Don't get so excited," he barked.

Myrna shook her head. "Thalina said Tysa died from a fever in this village. She never mentioned her moving away to marry a knight!"

"Well she could have died _before_ her marriage," Sandor became more annoyed. Myrna felt him sit up and scoot around her to get off the bed. As he stood up he swiped the journal from her hands.

Myrna disapproved of that. "I wanted to read more of that!" she followed Sandor as he went to throw it on the table. When he turned around she was going to argue more until she saw him peer down at one of his hands. It was making a fist, like he was holding something. She wondered how long he had been like that.

That moment resumed what had been going on between them the previous evening before he left for work. Sandor seemed to be at a loss for words, and Myrna was not too sure what to say herself. She stared at his hand, and then back at his ruined face.

"Remember how I told you I am no good at these things?" he managed to cough out.

"I'm confused…" she confessed.

Slightly he raised his fingers to look at what he held. Myrna still could not see. "Today was your name day. So… ah, bloody hell, just take the damn thing!" he went with his free hand to grab one of Myrna's hands and opened it. For a second she heard the slithering metal sound of a chain and something cold fell into the palm of her hand. She pulled her hand back to take a look at what she held. It was a silver, oval pendant with a dark red ruby placed in it. A thin, delicate chain held the pendant. For eight name days she had not truly celebrated except for the previous one where she had been with Thalina. Yet that day only consisted of a better than average meal and listening to some of her neighbors play the fiddle.

She stared at it until her vision grew blurry. "Thank you…" she muttered softly.

"Listen, if you don't like it—"

"I love it," she interrupted but still remained soft spoken. Myrna began to remember that afternoon when she went for a walk with Ryler. His sudden proposal came out of nowhere. It was almost threatening.

"You don't sound like you love it," Sandor almost sounded disappointed.

Different emotions were building up, making her chest heavy. "Ryler wants to marry me," she was monotone despite everything she felt.

When she looked in Sandor's eyes she could see rage and hurt. "Well, tell him to fuck off!"

"We won't be living here if I don't agree. He is the elder now," she informed him now with a hint of the similar emotions he was feeling.

He rubbed his hand through his hair where it did grow. "He can't force you to marry him," Sandor rasped in a defeated tone and went to sit down on the chair, elbows resting on his knees. "Bloody hells…" he cursed to himself.

Myrna returned her gaze to the pretty necklace in her hand. Then back at the pitiful looking man. He was about her height when sitting down. Quietly she approached him and he looked up at her. "Put this on me?" she asked for help as she handed him back the necklace and turned around. His long arms wrapped around her while holding the ruby necklace and pulled the ends of the chain back behind her. It took him a moment for his large fingers to do the clasp. Afterwards she pulled her thick, black hair out from under the necklace and begun to run her fingers through her hair to fix it so it laid nicely. Impatiently, Sandor grabbed her arm and made her turn around to look at her chest.

"How does it look?" she asked him another question.

He stared awhile, and simply nodded. It seemed his mind was still preoccupied. Myrna wondered if he felt he made a mistake. At that time she found herself unable to rid her gaze upon him. The scars were not easy to look at but she still did. That half was just twisted mass of old burned tissue that always seemed to leave him scowling. The other half was that of a normal man, but one she grew slightly fond of. Myrna took a step forward and leaned in towards that half. She heard Sandor suck in air but he did not move as she gave him a peck on that cheek through his rough beard. Afterwards he looked down in almost a bashful way, as if he was trying to escape but did not want to. His mouth grimaced but she knew he was not in pain. He seemed lost, confused.

"I'm not marrying Gregor. I'm not marrying Ryler. I'm not marrying anyone who isn't…" Myrna's voice begun to tremble.

What she said drew Sandor's attention back swiftly. His eyes were wide open, and he placed his hands on her waist. The two of them engaged in a long stare…

Then there was a knock on the door.

"Ina?" they heard Thalina's voice call out for her from the other side of the door. It followed with more knocks. "Ina, I am so overwhelmed for tomorrow's celebration. I really need your help. I apologize for coming here so late!" she continued to nag and knock on the door.

Sandor gripped her waist tighter. "Stay…" his piercing eyes were glued to hers.

"I can't…" Myrna woefully replied as she tried to face the door but he would not let go. "They are doing so much for us. I can't let them think ill thoughts of me…"

Then he did let go, but what he did next Myrna did not expect. He stood up and stomped around her, and grabbed the door. He opened it but only enough so his body could shield what was going on inside.

"She's asleep. Do you mean to wake her?" he growled out the door. There was some mumbling Myrna could not decipher, but Thalina sounded apologetic. "Good. She will see you tomorrow," he barked and then closed the door. Myrna stared blankly at him as he motioned one hand towards the door. "There. Done. No more buggering interruptions…" he snarled as he marched back to his chair. Out the window Myrna could faintly see Thalina slowly shuffling her way down the lane towards her house with her head down. Guilt overwhelmed her.

"That was a little unnecessary," Myrna told him.

His hands went back to where they were before. He held onto her small waist, thumb brushing against the fabric of her green dress. Their eyes connected once more. "That son of hers wants to ruin your life just like my brother wants to ruin yours. Don't feel anything towards them but hate," he warned her. Softly she sighed, but that aggravated him more. "I don't need to live here, Myrna. I refuse to if I have to watch you marry some bloody peasant. You are worth more than that!" he yelled.

Her vision grew blurry again for the second time that night. Then she leaned in again, but his hands held her tightly in place.

"…And you're worth more than me," his voice pained.

She shook her head, black curls bouncing everywhere. "That's not true! My house is dead but yours isn't. There's still a chance that maybe-"

"I'm not talking about our buggering families! Curse them all!" he roared back. "I am talking about _you_. You are the most daring lady I've ever met, but _still_ a lady. You've killed and impressed me, and you know how the world works. You're _smart!_" he went on. "You don't deserve anything that you have gone through. Including your times with me…"

Myrna paused to collect her thoughts. "Sandor. I would never trade our times together for anything. I've never met a man more true than you," she brushed his beard with a hand.

When he slid his hands off of her he did it slowly. He did not react to her touch. When he walked around her again he made for the bed this time. She looked at the journal on the table, then down at her feet. Her fist clenched but she was not angry. Just disappointed.

"At least face me tonight when we sleep," Myrna requested when she finally turned around to see him.

He sat down on the edge of the bed. "You don't want to wake up to this," he said bitterly and began to lie down on his side of the bed on his back.

She followed him and crawled on the bed. When she lied down she was resting on her left side, facing him. His melted, scarred ear was plain in sight. He was trying hard to ignore her. "It's my name day. Please," she insisted.

For a while he stared hard up at the ceiling then sighed. He turned to lie on his right side and finally faced her. With his head resting on his right side it covered most of his burn. "You're a pain in my arse sometimes," he rasped in a low voice.

Myrna laughed at that and she could have sworn she saw him smirk for a second. After he closed his eyes she decided to close hers, too. Tomorrow was going to be a rough day. Once Myrna declines her engagement to Ryler they may not sleep in this bed again.


	22. Chapter 22

The festivities began. Despite the heavy feeling of dread tugging on her chest she smiled when she saw everything come together. In front of Thalina's house a wagon was parked without a horse. Later on in the evening a band was to play standing on the wagon since there were no small stage of any sort in the village. Tables and anything with a flat surface was pulled out of houses, including the table she regularly used in her own place. They were set up in various corners of the village and were topped with foods and desserts. The barrels of beer was set up not too far from the wagon near some of Thalina's neighbors across the dirt lane.

Naturally Sandor was already there with a mug in hand even though it was not too much past noon. Some men were standing behind him staring in awe at how fast he was drinking. Myrna felt herself feeling some second-hand embarrassment and decided to go over there to speak with him.

She gave him a jab in his side. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve before giving her his attention. "This is some damn good beer…" he waved his empty cup.

"Then maybe you should save some for the rest of us," she hinted. Two men were waiting for their turn and she gave them an awkward smile as she tugged Sandor's arm and pulled him away from the barrels.

He was disappointed. "There's bloody _barrels_ of good alcohol here and I only get a taste!" he yelled at her once they were far enough away.

"Before you get drunk we need to give Ryler our blessings like everyone else who lives here," she informed Sandor and they looked at the short line that was forming in front of Thalina's house. Ryler sat on a chair in front of the door as Thalina sat in another chair farther off to the side, smiling at her son. Her long white hair was braided and pinned up. She also wore an outfit Myrna had never seen before. It was a sky blue corset with brown trimming over a puffy white short-sleeved shirt with a matching sky blue skirt that went down to her knees.

That morning Thalina prepped Myrna as well. Even though she still wore the same green dress she had received a few days prior, her hair was braided and pinned around her head like Thalina's. It felt foreign to Myrna to have her hair that way as she always had her dark curls down and loose. Myrna also felt having her hair up gave more attention to the pendant Sandor had given her for her name day. Almost everyone she ran into that day had a quick peek at her chest to look at the ruby she wore.

Sandor bellowed a mocking at her. "Aren't you a true lady, giving courtesies to a man who just threatened you yesterday…"

"If we intend on living here we have to follow tradition!" she barked back.

"Fuck tradition, fuck-"

Myrna gave him an even harder jab to make him shut up. "_Stop_," she scolded. "Now behave and follow me. Let's get this bloody over with," she cursed.

Her heart began beating faster once she stepped at the back of the line. To try and calm herself she held her hands and rested them against her stomach and focused on her breathing. Sandor stood next to her, shifting his weight between his feet. Myrna could feel his annoyance and it did not help her anxiety. She felt her anxiety spike every time a person in front of her finished speaking with Ryler and they took a step forward. When it was almost their turn Sandor leaned over and whispered to her.

"So… what exactly am I to say?" he asked in the lowest voice possible so that the people who had lined up behind them wouldn't hear.

Myrna rolled her eyes. "Oh, Gods…" she sighed and had to catch her breath when she saw the woman in front of her walk off to the side and Ryler sat before them. "Just follow me," she whispered back harshly and they stumbled awkwardly in front of Ryler.

"Ah. Ina… Sandor… long time no see," Ryler japed. He seemed rather happy today. Thalina's consistent smile grew a little bigger when they approached.

Myrna bowed as much as the scarred skin on her back allowed which wasn't much. A second later from the corner of her eye she saw Sandor give a rigid bow. "I pray The Mother rains blessings upon you and your family," she praised Ryler once she straightened herself. She squeezed her hands together so they would not tremble.

Ryler gave her a small nod. Then he gazed over to Sandor looking for his blessing. Myrna held her breath and looked down at her feet.

"Aye, what she said. You have my bloody blessing. But I'm going to give you something better than a blessing. I'm going to give you advice," Sandor rasped.

_Oh no_, Myrna felt her stomach drop and she worriedly placed her eyes from her feet to Ryler and his mother.

Ryler turned toward his mother from where he sat, and she returned a blank stare. Her smile had left.

"What are you-" Myrna tried whispering to him but he would not allow her to ask him anything.

"This village needs more steel. I have my own sword stashed in our lodge but what of the other men? I never see them training. This village could never stand if a large enough group of thieves decide to invade. If you don't want your women raped and your food stolen I suggest you listen to my advice. This place is yours now, take care of it…" he spoke as if it were a command.

Myrna bit her lip and eyed Ryler and Thalina. They were in thought, especially Ryler. Thalina seemed almost angry but was startled when Ryler chuckled. Myrna was almost startled herself. "You're right, Clegane. You're right. Men like you would know these things," his tone turned sour at the end but still he seemed genuine in admitting Sandor was correct.

They were about to leave when Ryler put a stop to that. "Ina, wait…"

Myrna and Sandor stopped walking. "What is it?" she asked.

"You will be seated next to me at dinner. It is to be a lovely evening and I want to sit next to the name day girl," he said charmingly.

Thalina pitched in. "That is a lovely idea! Ina, I have a surprise for you later on. Please be sure to be around," her smile returned but she only gazed at Myrna and refused to acknowledge Sandor.

Finally they parted ways, and Myrna followed Sandor as he made his way back to the barrels of beer. "Say what you want but I need a drink after that," he complained.

"Don't worry. As do I," she groaned but then saw the mug still in his hand from before they spoke to Ryler as he went to fill it. "You carried that thing the entire time?" His response was to drink his beer down in a matter of seconds. When he finished he poured another cup, and Myrna crossed her arms and let out an annoyed sigh. Then unexpectedly he held it out for her. "Hm. So you can be a gentleman after all," she teased as she grabbed it and took a sip.

Sandor scoffed at her. "I wouldn't dare call myself that. But when have I ever mistreated you?" he asked harshly.

"You yell a lot," she looked down at the mug and then back at him as they walked off towards the middle of the dirt lane where people were slowly gathering. "There's a lot of anger in you…"

"There's a lot of ladies who wished their man would only yell at them. Yelling is nothing," he defended himself.

Myrna was taken aback and wondered if he was implying something. "Their _man_?"

He figured out where she was going with her question and once again tried to defend himself. "I meant… no, I meant…" he struggled to say something. Then he swiped back the mug and swallowed down what she did not finished. He drank too fast and then began to cough.

"Are you alright!?" she grew concerned and went to touch him but he waved her off and managed to stop coughing but his face was tomato red by the end of it. His hair was also messed up and pieces fell over his face. He did not bother to fix it.

He examined what was going on around them as if to find an excuse not to look her in the face. "Bloody hell. When is the buggering band starting?" he changed the subject.

Myrna found herself longing for more beer. "Let me borrow this again," she took back the mug they were apparently sharing now and walked back to the barrels. After using the metal barrel spout to fill her mug she turned and saw a familiar freckled face that was judging her the previous day.

"Ah, Katherine…" Myrna held tightly to her mug.

Katherine was wearing the same salmon dress today. Coming from a village like this Myrna assumed she probably did not own that many dresses. Katherine seemed to lose focus on what she was going to say when she saw the ruby around Myrna's neck. "Ina... Where did you get that?" she asked rather crudely.

"It was a name day present," she replied.

"From who? Ryler? Did he give that to you when you two went walking outside yesterday?" her eyes grew envious.

Myrna shook her head almost violently. "No! From… my friend," she saw Sandor standing not too close to a group of men who had gathered near the empty wagon. Myrna recognized them as some of the men he had went to Fairmarket with but he did not seem too keen on holding a real conversation with them.

Katherine followed Myrna's eyes and understood. "Ah. So how long have you two been together?" she switched from sour to sweet in an instant.

"I said he's my friend," Myrna corrected her. "And I'd say only a couple moons we have been speaking but we've been acquainted just a little longer…" she explained and took a sip from her mug. For some reason she felt odd talking about him like that.

"Ina, you are so silly. I do not understand why you would come back to this dreadfully boring place. If it were up to me I would take the first wagon ride out to the city. Maybe even Kings Landing!" she boasted but put her hand over her mouth. "Oh, I should not say that so loud. My mother would throw a fit if she heard me speak in that way…" she frowned.

"We all have dreams," Myrna smiled at her.

Katherine cheered up slightly but still had a hint of melancholy in her voice. "But not all of us can chase them," she noted. "I'm doomed to be here forever. Ryler's sweetheart of a mother told me. I know. We are being announced to be engaged tonight. Someone has to bring him sons," she peeked over her shoulder to stare at them still receiving blessings from the villagers in front of their home.

Myrna tensed up. Then took another swig from the mug. _He did not tell Katherine? Does Thalina even know he plans on announcing he is marrying me instead of Katherine? _

When Katherine turned back around she furrowed her eyebrows. "Ina? You look like you have seen a spook or something!"

_A spook…_ Myrna's mind switched from one troublesome topic to the other. The image of seeing someone standing inside her home and not being able to find them after gave her chills. Then Myrna realized she had an opportunity here.

"Katherine… this might be a hard thing to discuss but I need to talk to someone about it. And not Thalina or Ryler. It has to do with Tysa…" Myrna eased into the discussion.

"Oh Gods!" Katherine nearly shouted but then covered her mouth again. Myrna winced. "Sorry… but, yes, what I meant to say is please do not talk about Tysa around them. They miss her dearly. Now why is this being brought up?" she spoke softer.

Myrna tried to stop herself from chuckling. "You will probably think I am mad…"

"What is it?" Katherine insisted.

"Well… I think I saw her. Inside my home," Myrna said as seriously as she could. Katherine grew stern herself.

Katherine brushed her hands down her skirt. "Well, she did not exactly die inside _your_ place…" she managed to say.

"I know. Thalina mentioned she died from fever inside her childhood home where she and Ryler still live now. I just really needed to tell someone what I saw. I'm sorry," Myrna apologized.

"Are you sure you did not accidently peer into a looking glass or something?" Katherine said out of the blue.

Myrna was confused. "What do you mean?"

"Well, she could have been your twin. Both of you had that dark curly hair and big brown eyes-"

A loud cheer broke their conversation. They witnessed a small band made up of two fiddlers, a flutist and a drummer weaving through groups of sitting families and friends from the village and some people who have visited from nearby villages or Fairmarket. Myrna had not realized that such a crowd had suddenly come together.

"Almost as big as the funeral," Myrna commented.

Katherine seemed a little more joyous seeing all the people. "If the band has arrived that must mean others are probably just arriving as well. I must go now, Ina. The celebrations are officially about to start. Hopefully I shall see you again tonight sometime!" she took Myrna's hands and gave them a gentle squeeze but before she trotted off she wished Myrna a happy name day.

After spotting Sandor, who was now relocated off in the very corner of the crowd sitting on a stump, Myrna made her way towards him. Along the way she nearly tripped and lost her mug. Next to her a small group chuckled at her. Lowering her head she picked up speed and sat next to Sandor but on the ground since the stump was completely taken up by him. From the angle she sat she could not see his burn. He noticed what had just happened to her and wanted to let her know.

Sandor had a deep laugh. "Perhaps you ought to stop drinking for the day?"

"Shut up," Myrna now felt herself begin to blush. She was feeling a little dizzy but thought nothing of it. "What's our plan? Ryler now wants me to sit next to him during dinner."

"You should have told him no. You pretty much agreed now that you're going to marry that cunt," he said with a sour tone.

Myrna spat back at him. "That's not true!"

"I told you. I'm not staying if you're marrying him…" he stared off into the crowd.

Two fiddles playing the same melody came from the wagon. The band was beginning to play now that the sun was close to setting. More cheers came from the men, women and children sitting around them. Couples hugged and laughed, children chased each other as they tried to avoid running into others who were sitting. The scene was heartwarming but not filling. Once the flutist and drummer joined in with the fiddlers some couples stood up to dance. Myrna could not stop watching them but she could not join them. Some force separated her from them. Not just these people in particular. The people in King's Landing, the Brotherhood, Brenda, the Stark girls…

"What do you think the girls are doing right now?" she asked out of the blue.

"The wolf girls? Your brother is probably still on the road to Winterfell with them and the Dornish whore," he guessed.

Getting tired of holding their mug she placed it down in front of her. "You really think my brother kept her around after what she did to us?"

"We don't even know if he knows what happened to us. And who bloody cares. We should've left them as soon as we had the chance if you ask me," he leaned over to grab the mug she had placed down and drank what was left.

A young lady screamed from excitement as her man dipped her while they danced. Some older folk yelled at them but not in a serious matter. More people were having their share of the beer and the crowd was growing slightly rowdy. Some poorly danced along with the tune as if they were hearing a completely different song. Then on the outside of the crowd Thalina was making her way towards them. Her knees appeared sore and she took her time. When she was a little closer Myrna smiled and greeted Thalina. Sandor remained silent and pretended not to notice her as he continued to people watch.

"Ina, I could not hide it any longer. Your name day present will be your dinner: a fish pie in the shape of the Tully fish! Since you were born from Riverrun I figured you would love that," she exclaimed.

Myrna felt a hole begin to form in her chest but she knew she had to smile and pretend to be Ina Rivers, the bastard girl from Riverrun. "That's lovely! I look forward to it!" she smiled but it almost hurt to grin like that. Sandor peered over at her slightly. It felt like he knew how she really felt.

"So glad to hear that. So very glad," Thalina chuckled. "The cook should be done with the feast soon. In about an hour we will be setting up the main course, and of course _your_ special treat. Have fun," she said motherly and wandered back off towards her house. Today was her son's big day and would hardly leave his side for more than a moment.

Once Thalina was far away enough Myrna let out her true feelings as she punched the ground. "This is _so_ stupid! Why did I ever make up this stupid false identity!?"

"I don't know. Why did you?" Sandor asked seemingly curious.

"The Lannister's were always on the hunt for me so I wanted to be someone different for once. I never really knew why they wanted me up until I got caught and dragged to King's Landing. Found out Gregor's happiness was more important than my own."

He joined in. "Gregor's happiness is always more important than your own. Than anyone else. As long as the Lannister's have use for him," he rasped. It was an angry rasp. Then he blinked a couple times. He faced her sternly. "_Tell_ them. You need to tell them _everything_."

"Wait, why?" she was startled by his sudden aggressiveness.

"You're engaged to my brother. Ryler can't marry you. You're not Ina Rivers, dammit. Stop it with this fucking lying!" he explained.

She sucked in air. "But I don't plan on marrying Gregor! Unless you want me to now!? Should I just go back to King's Landing and jump on his lap!?"

"Stupid idiot. Of course not! But it'll scare Ryler enough so he won't marry you."

Myrna retorted, "Or it will scare them so much we get kicked out anyway!"

They both stopped yelling seeing there was no point in it. She could understand where Sandor was coming from. Myrna had thought about telling everyone in the village the truth about herself many times, even during her previous stay. It was hard to imaging them letting her stay there knowing the infamous Mountain was after her.

A drunken old man was walking a winding way past them. "Bloody drunk…" Sandor commented.

"There sure is a lot of beer to go around," Myrna shrugged.

As Myrna continued to watch people dance Sandor blocked her view for a second as he walked past her and towards the line at the barrels with their mug in hand. Not paying too much mind to him she went back to observing the celebration. She noticed Katherine dancing with another man far away. They were right in front of the wagon and Katherine grinned with all teeth showing as her partner swung her around in a circle by grabbing her slim waist. The attention she was receiving must have felt pleasant for her. Now it made sense to Myrna why Katherine wanted Ryler. She would be the next Thalina, and everyone loved Thalina.

Myrna played with her pendant as her eyes swept over to Thalina's house. Ryler remained sitting there but no one bothered him. As if he knew someone was looking at him he turned his head and their eyes met for a second before Myrna tore her gaze off him embarrassingly. _Why did I look over there?_

When she looked away a mug was in front of her face wrapped in a big hand. Sandor has returned, but the drink was for her. "Oh. I don't want anymore. I'm starting to feel a little funny…"

"No, drink. This is our new plan," he insisted.

"New plan? What, for me to be the new village drunk?" she laughed. When he did not laugh in return her smile turned into a frown. "You're fucking joking, right?"

He jerked the cup towards her again until she grabbed it. "This at the very least will excuse us to go back into our lodge. Can't make a proper marriage announcement if both people aren't there," he explained.

"Ryler _could_ still announce it without me there!" she argued. Sandor did not argue back but just stood there. He was waiting. Frowning harder, she chugged down the beer as quick as she could. Then he took the mug back and went for another refill. This happened two more times before Myrna began to feel fuzzy. When she tried to stand up she just fell right back on her bottom. "Oh… not good…" she stammered.

Sandor crouched down but she could hardly make him out. "So?" he asked.

Myrna sluggishly shook her head. The noise around her grew too much to bear. Her stomach felt like it was turning. Wanting to get away from all the people she turned around and began crawling between the two lodges they were sitting in front of. It wasn't long after that she stopped crawling to empty her stomach. With every heave came a small cry. Sandor was not too far away from her and put his hand between her shoulder blades. With her hair braided and tied up there was no need to pull it back. After Sandor asked if she was done emptying her stomach Myrna said she was not sure. There was a constant rumbling in her tummy. Her skinny legs shook. After the past couple dry heaves Myrna was sure she was no longer at risk at making a mess at the very least.

"This… This is the worst…" she heaved once more, and still nothing came out.

Sandor boomed with laughter from behind her. "You really can't handle your liquor, can you?"

"This was _your_ stupid idea…" she blamed. Then heaved yet again.

Another familiar voice was behind her. It was Thalina. "Is she alright!?" she exclaimed.

"I doubt she can eat anything tonight. Save her fish pie or whatever you made her for tomorrow," she heard Sandor respond.

Thalina made a humming noise. "Let her rest once she is done. We do not want her getting sicker," she sounded disappointed.

"Will do, ma'am," Sandor quickly responded. After a minute passed Myrna let herself laugh. "What's that for?" he asked.

Myrna snorted. "You called Thalina… _ma'am_… I never heard you call anyone that!"

"Alright. I think you need to go to bed," he picked her up like a baby and Myrna felt the world quickly spin around her. The queasy feeling forced her eyes closed.

"Ungh…" she moaned. With every step he took Myrna felt her stomach drop, and drop again. Soon Sandor's quiet footsteps turned into ones pounding against creaky wood. After some more movement she was lowered onto some furs. Their furs. When she opened her eyes there was not much difference from when she had them shut. Their place grew dark. In the distance the sounds of celebration were muted by their wooden walls. They had left before Ryler's announcement. Myrna wondered if their absence would make any difference. Being away from everything eased her angst if anything.

At that moment Sandor was just a big shadow in the room. Since the sun was setting very little light was pouring in. With the table and chair taken for the guests outside he sat along the wall between the bed and fireplace. Myrna longed for talk between them.

"Should… I still tell them?" she slowly asked.

"What you're doing to them isn't right," he answered from where he sat below her.

Her stomach was still upsetting her but she took long, deep breaths to try and ignore it. "If they know about your brother…"

"I don't want to talk about my brother," he snapped back.

Myrna did not listen. "You know… you know what would really piss Gregor off?" she rambled.

Even though she could not see Sandor through the darkness the short silence relayed a feeling of irritation. "What?" he responded.

"He's… He's been after me for so long… for so damn long…" Myrna tried to follow her loose thoughts and gather them together. "He'd hate it if anyone else had me. Like if Ryler… Like if Ryler did marry me…"

Sandor took over. "Gregor would kill him. End of story. Now get some sleep," he ordered.

"But what if I was_ yours_?" Myrna blurted. "That would… wouldn't that be better… than killing him? You would have what he _always_ wanted, right? Maybe… Maybe we could…" she tried to mentally grab her thoughts but they escaped her. There was another moment of silence but this time there was no negative energy there. The silence dragged on for so long Myrna could not stand it. "Sandor? Are… are you there?" she continued her drunken ramble. A noise of shoes scraping across the wooden floor boards came from where he was sitting and his presence was felt at the end of the bed. He was close enough now that she could see a slight glimmer from his eyes, more so from his good eye. Calloused fingers combed through her hair rubbing over her scalp.

"Are you telling more silly lies?" he asked.

Myrna stared hard at where his face should be, trying to see through the blackness that covered it. She wondered if he felt more comfortable knowing his face was concealed. "I know I had a lot to drink, but… but I am being honest right now…" she groggily responded as she raised her hand to try and touch his cheek. When she found his face and ran her fingers over his skin they picked up tears. That alarmed her. _Why is he crying?_

His fingers rubbed against her scalp, over the roots of her hair. "This time… Gregor won't get what he wants," he continued. "Because… I'm taking it." Swiftly his hand moved to the back of her head, holding it, and her arm looped around his neck as he went to press his lips hard against hers. Their lips glided together so smoothly and was contrasted by the coarseness of his beard against the skin around her lips. With her other arm she went to touch his chest as he gave her a second kiss that was just as hard as the first. Then she felt a drop hit her face. It rolled off her cheek as if it was hers. Before she could open her mouth to say anything he took his hand from the back of her head and used his thumb to brush her lips. "Don't say anything," he threatened.

Slightly confused, she nodded. Then her worries were immediately swept away with one more kiss as he gripped her jaw. This time it was soft and was held for a long time. It was the most gentle he had ever been with her. Puffs of warm air came from his nose and onto her face. There were no more tears being fallen from his eyes.

He pulled away. Myrna was about to say something when she reminded herself of what he just said and kept her mouth closed. She decided tomorrow she would talk with him more. Tomorrow was also the day they would find out how the celebration turned out. Now she definitely could not marry another man. Silently she watched the outline of Sandor go back to where he was sitting. Myrna smiled and held onto this feeling of peace as much as she could.


	23. Chapter 23

"Little sister! Are you well?" clamored a loud voice in her ear.

Startled, Myrna swatted her small hand toward the voice and hit Nicholas right on his pointed nose. He flinched but not enough to avoid the impact. Then he rubbed his face with a disapproving look as he stared down at her lying in bed.

"What are you doing in my bedchamber? What time is it?" her voice squeaked.

"Mother told me to check on you. Don't you remember what happened yesterday?" he asked. "And aren't you going to apologize to me?"

Myrna shook her head. "You are the one who yelled in my ear. I was sleeping so soundly…"

"Fine, but do you remember what happened?" he asked more sternly.

Finally she sat up in bed escaping the furs that piled over her. Then she felt a jolt of pain in her ankle and went to touch it. Peeling back her faded purple skirt she saw her right ankle wrapped in bandages. "I fell…" she simply stated.

Nicholas had a laugh. "'I fell' is what you say. You are right, but you fell into a bloody hunting pit! What if a wolf had been down there? Or an elk? And what if they weren't completely dead?"

"Shut up, Nicholas. _Of course_ they would be dead," she sneered.

"_You_ didn't die," he crossed his arms and leaned in towards her. "Maybe other things could survive the fall, too!"

Myrna recollected everything that happened. Nicholas and her went out into the Wolf Woods but ventured out into parts where they had never been. Perhaps they had been told once to not go out into those parts but they did not remember, nor did they care. They decided on hide and seek and it was Myrna's time to hide. As Nicholas faced a big oak tree he closed his eyes and counted aloud backwards from twenty. Without any knowledge of these parts she randomly picked a destination and ran towards it, looking for any decent place to hide whether it be a hollowed out tree or a tree that was climbable. There was still remnants of snow on the ground but it was clearing up day by day. Little did she know in a second the ground would collapse beneath her feet.

All she could do was gasp as she ground rose above her head. Leaves, twigs and other parts of these woods that covered the pit came down with her. Her body made a loud thud as she landed on her right side and that was the first time she ever felt real pain in her life. When she sat up and tried to move her ankle she cried out in pain. She did not even attempt to touch it. The fear she felt was so great she did not even look down at her pained ankle. All she could do was sit there in that damp, dark hole that was lined with old stone.

"Nicholas…!" Myrna wailed up at the sky, trying not to panic. Her voice was loud to her as it bounced off the enclosed space.

There was no response. How far did she run?

"_Nicholaaaas…!_" she wailed again, this time her voice trembling. Maybe a minute later she began outright sobbing. Tears streamed down her white cheeks. Her mouth hung open and she wept like a baby, shaking like a leaf. "_Someone help me!_" she cried out as hard as her little voice could manage.

At last Nicholas's face peered down at her, wide eyed. "Myrna!? Why are you hiding down there!?"

"I'm not hiding down here! I fell, stupid!" she yelled up at him. Seeing her brother's face made her feel brave. "Get me out!"

"We're not too far off from the main road. I'll go find help!" he assured her as he disappeared but Myrna felt a lump in her throat.

"Wait, no! Don't leave me!" she pleaded but he did not return.

The cold gray stones around her turned hazy and her surroundings were engulfed in a quiet darkness just for a moment. Then she opened her eyes to her new surroundings. She saw a familiar table and chair returned to their place. _The celebration… it must have ended._ When she turned to her side to see if Sandor was still asleep on the ground beside her she saw she was alone. At first she was careful to move her ankle but realized it was just a dream of a memory from long ago. Myrna shook it off and stretched as she stood. When she straightened up she did not feel her hair fall around her shoulders as it was still up in braids, which were now messy. She had to visit the village's outdoor privy and did so discretely since she had no idea how the night turned out.

No one seemed to pay any particular attention to her. The way to the privy made her cross paths with some folk but a regular smile was the most attention she received and after she relieved herself she felt more confident walking back. Myrna noted that a lot of the able bodied men that normally left the village for work were still around. Her mind wandered off to where Sandor could be.

Believing he would return shortly to the lodge she walked through her front door and stood there in the middle of the room. Their table had nothing on it but the window sill above it held the journal that she had begun to read the night before. Bored, she went to grab it and sat on the cold chair. It was clear it had been out all night. The leather on the journal was cold, too, for sitting alongside the window for so long. It was not just the touch of the journal that sent a chill through her. Myrna opened the journal and found where she had left off:

_Today was my first day at my new home. My husband-to-be was_

_not with me at all today but I am relieved. The short meeting I had_

_with this man on our travels here was anything but pleasant. He_

_barely said a word to me. There was almost disappointment in his_

_dark eyes. They were such dark, angry eyes. No one will tell me_

_when our wedding will be but I feel it will be too soon. At least_

_the maids who tend me to here are kind. They gave me a hot_

_bath and readied my supper as soon as I arrived. But there is some-_

_thing odd about them as well. They may be kind but they _

_hardly speak to me. It is almost as if they fear me. Oh! How_

_could I almost forget. As the future lady of this house it_

_is important for me to have my own little lady it seems. I_

_am just reminded by this because she laid down by_

_my feet as I am writing this. She is a beautiful pup and we are_

_getting along so well. Looking down at her gives me some_

_hope that this could feel like a real home in time. When_

_Gregor returns I wonder if he will give me a_

_chance to speak with him. I really hope my mother could_

_make it to our wedding._

Her eyes froze. Then she re-read that last part. Once more she read it again. How could this be? The beginning of this page proved that Tysa indeed moved away from the village but Myrna never thought this is how her story would turn out. If Tysa married Gregor at some point then why did Sandor not know?

Now she demanded answers. Myrna closed the journal loudly and held it against her stomach as she marched out the door and down the lane passing by her neighbors and towards Thalina's house. Luckily no one was out to see her storm through. It took her less than a minute to go from her door to Thalina's and she allowed herself in without knocking. When she was inside she stopped in her tracks and was startled to see the company they had. At the big mahogany table sat Thalina, Ryler… and Sandor. Thalina and Ryler looked as if they had just woken up with their messy hair and circles under their eyes but there was more than tiredness to their look.

"What's going on?" Myrna asked, caught off guard.

Thalina and Ryler held a forlorn gaze at her as Sandor peered down at his arms that were resting on the table but he spoke. "They needed to know the truth, Myrna."

"The truth? What do you mean the-" she began until she realized he said her real name aloud.

"So your real name _is_ Myrna. You're not Ina Rivers," Ryler stared hard at her.

Sandor and Myrna exchanged glances when Ryler interrogated her. He was calm but the look in his eyes almost seemed to urge her to come out and say it. He did not want her to lie anymore, she knew that, but she had no idea he would do something like this without her permission. "Yes. My name is Myrna Beaumont."

"A year and a half ago they began rallying up women who fit a specific description. Fair, dark curls, dark eyes. Tysa was a perfect fit. I thought the Gods had blessed her. She was to marry a well to do knight down south. Oh how wrong I was," Thalina's eyes were red and tired.

Myrna closed in on the group and threw the journal on the dining table they sat around. "So it seems I don't need to bring that up. You admit that you were lying as well?" she accused Thalina.

Sandor's eyes focused on the two ladies. "What are you two talking about?"

"Tysa did not die from a fever. She was one of Gregor's wives! Why didn't _you_ tell me?" she turned her anger towards Sandor.

He looked down deep in thought. "Tysa. _That_ Tysa? Now that I think about it Gregor did have a wife by that name. Pretty sure she was the last one to die. Then when they were about to send off to find Gregor another wife _you_ were brought to King's Landing…" he stared back at Myrna. "You were the one he really wanted."

"How could you two talk about Tysa like that in front of me!?" Thalina screamed and stood up from her chair but Ryler grabbed his mother's arm and calmed her down with a soothing expression. Gently she found her place again but refused to look at any of them.

Myrna felt as if she should say something despite her temper. "Thalina, I really am sorry…"

"I cursed the woman who ran off and created my daughter's fate. If only you had gone to King's Landing in the first place all those years ago!" she stammered, still looking off to the side.

Ryler broke in. "That's enough, mother."

"What do you mean that's enough!?" Thalina cried out and returned her gaze at them. "This woman killed your sister!"

"She didn't kill Tysa. The Mountain did!" he stood up to his mother.

Thalina gave a curt command. "Leave. All of you. Now!"

Sandor quickly eyed Thalina and Ryler then gave a small nod as he made his way towards the exit. Ryler also stood up and followed Sandor as quickly as his injured leg allowed him but Myrna remained standing there. When they were alone Myrna went to grab a chair for herself but Thalina glared at her. Myrna pulled her hand back and decided standing was just fine. The journal was lying on the table between them. "Do you want to keep that?" Myrna pointed at it.

"It was already mine. You must have snooped around upstairs and found her things. You _stole _it," Thalina accused her now. "Had plenty of opportunity to after all the warm welcoming I have given you in this house!"

Myrna put her hands on the table. "I have _never_ stolen from you!"

Thalina's lip trembled as her glare turned into a sorrowful stare. "You stole my daughter. My only daughter…"

A wave of guilt washed over Myrna. It was a type of guilt she had never experienced before. She watched this old woman slowly break down. Somehow she found herself being convinced that she actually had something to do with Tysa's death. Had Myrna originally left for King's Landing all those years ago would Tysa still be alive? Did all previous wives of Gregor die because of her reluctance to marry him as well? This was a brand new thought to Myrna. For years she ran to save herself, but had she sacrificed others while doing so?

She had enough of seeing Thalina sulk. When she slipped outside Thalina's door she saw the end of a hushed conversation between Ryler and Sandor. Ryler began walking away with a limp down the lane and Sandor caught her eye.

"How could you do that!?" Myrna demanded as she hurried up to him.

He frowned. "It's better this way. Believe me…"

"The only person who gives a damn about me in this place now thinks I am responsible for her daughter's murder. That's _so_ much better!" she crossed her arms.

His mouth tightened in agitation. "That woman doesn't matter, no matter how much these peasants love her. The one that matters is the man of the village and I just spoke to him. He doesn't want your hand anymore but we can stay. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"You trust his word?"

Before replying he scoffed. "I saved that man from a bloody cart that fell on him. He owes me if anything."

Their little conversation went silent as they stood there facing each other. Myrna could feel he was thinking the same thoughts as she was. Her mind raced back to when she was just falling asleep, his lips touching hers in the dark. Not once but twice. She went to touch her pendant as she tried to think of something to say. "Could we talk about last night?" she abruptly said.

Myrna could see him physically tense up. "You remember?" he simply asked.

"Of course I remember. I wasn't _that_ drunk," she continued to fiddle with her pendant, making it slide back and forth on the chain.

He took a step closer to her and lowered his voice. "Then you should remember I asked you not to say anything," he glowered down at her. Before Myrna could reply he hurried off towards their lodge. She noticed the rough state of his clothing for some reason as he walked away from her. There were stains that were hard to see from the green-gray color of his tunic and the ends were nearly shredded. Myrna wished she had spent her time more wisely at Thalina's. Here she stood with her hair up in pretty braids, a new dress and a fancy pendant that was given to her _from him_. At the very least she could have made him something new to wear. That was likely to not be able to happen anytime soon.

"For me, spending my name day in a stupor does not sound like much fun but I can't speak for everyone I suppose…" a voice teased her from behind.

Myrna was faced by Katherine when she turned towards the voice and blushed. "You saw me last night?"

"At least you had a man to take care of you," she added and gave a glance at the pendant she wore, her golden curls bouncing. "But I bet you did not have a chance to take care of him last night. You could barely stand!"

"Excuse me?" Myrna blushed more and looked off to the side to see if anyone was close enough to hear their conversation. When she averted her eyes she noticed from behind Katherine someone walking out of Thalina's house. Once the figure stepped out of the shadows she saw it was Thalina wearing a hooded shawl. With as much haste as her old legs could muster she made off towards one of the exits of the village.

Katherine laughed and when she stopped she looked over her shoulder to see what Myrna was looking at. "Oh? Thalina must be upset. Looks like she is headed off to town," she commented.

"How do you know she is upset?" Myrna questioned.

Her pretty freckled face turned forward and she smiled. "I remember the last time Thalina was upset. It was when her husband was still alive. They always had bad arguments, and when they were bad enough Thalina would run off to town. I suppose that is how she deals with her emotions?"

Myrna's stomach twisted in a knot from hunger. She had almost forgotten that she had not eaten anything in almost an entire day. "Thalina left some food for me yesterday. I think I might fetch it. It was nice speaking to you this morning," she smiled at Katherine.

Another obnoxious laugh escaped her thin lips. "Don't forget to save some for your man!"

Feeling bewildered, Myrna forced a small smile before escaping Katherine's presence and winding her way through the tiny village to the baker where Myrna was sure her Tully-styled fish pie was being kept. It was not time yet for everyone's mid-day meal so the small shelter-like building was not busy and Myrna obtained her belated present with ease. The cook, a short round lady with a contagious grin, placed the oval shaped ceramic pan on the long table that separated the cook and the people who would line up to pick up their meal. Along with the pan she placed a piece of cloth and a two-pronged fork with it. Myrna could not help but pick up the lid to peer down at the beautifully cooked pie that indeed was shaped into the Tully fish and lied on a bed of rosemary and thyme. "Looks beautiful. I can't wait to warm this up in my oven," Myrna thanked the cook and put the lid back on the pan so she could pick it up to carry home. As she approached her doorway it flew open. Startled, she took a step back and gripped the pan harder so it would not slip from her hands. Sandor stood in front of her and was just as surprised to see her.

"Going out for food?" Myrna raised the pan a couple inches up in the air. Without saying anything he opened the door for her and Myrna swiftly walked in and he returned with her. It continued to be quiet between them as Myrna lit the fire in the fireplace and placed the pan securely within it to heat up the pie. Having to be on her knees to do so, she decided to remain sitting there in front of the fireplace. Sandor had watched her from sitting on the bed behind her. "I know you wouldn't do anything that you think would cause me harm…" she said as she watched the pan sit over the flames.

He replied from behind. "You're right."

Myrna spun herself around so she could see him, still sitting with the skirt of her dress piled around her. Their place was no longer dark like the night before. Afternoon light shone bright through the window. Sandor stared down at her, silent. The light in the room casted a shadow across the burned half of his face.

"Do you think Thalina will ever forgive me?" she asked.

Sandor shrugged. "Who fucking knows?" he rasped and Myrna let out a troubled sigh. Seeing her disappointment in that answer he continued on. "But you were wrong before... saying she was the only person who gives a damn about you in this village."

Carefully Myrna thought of how to reply to that. "Well you did show me last night that you care an awful lot."

"Bloody hell, you were drunk and I took advantage of that! Just forget that ever happened!" he suddenly blurted.

Myrna shook her head. "I was plenty conscious of what was going on. I would even say I was the one that initiated it by saying-"

He leaned forward. "Shut up. Don't repeat yourself. I don't need you going on thinking I am just dragging you along to get back at my brother. I have my blade for that…" he tried hard to make himself clear.

"Okay, say that day comes and goes. Gregor is dead. Then what?" she asked.

Caught aback by her question, he leaned back again and looked out the window as if searching for an answer. After a minute elapsed he shrugged. "That's not important," he declared.

"It's plenty important," Myrna nearly laughed. "You know what I think is wrong with us? We don't know what we really want."

Sandor smirked as best he could. "I do know what I want. I want some unburned pie," he said with sarcasm.

Using the cloth the cook gave her with the food, Myrna was able to safely remove the ceramic pan and place the hot pie on their table next to the window. The aroma of fish on the herbs it lied on filled the air around them. However, staring down at the fish shaped pie made her feel empty. Thalina had given this to a girl she thought was from Riverrun. Now this beautiful dish had no real meaning. It seemed Sandor could see that her thoughts were taking her to less than happy places and nudged her shoulder. Myrna did not even see him follow her to the table.

"What's the matter? It looks fine to me," he said.

She exhaled. "No. I don't deserve this," she held herself and marched away from the table, knocking into Sandor. That gave him an opportunity to grab her. A tear ran down her face and she could not bear to look up at him. "It's all my fault, isn't it? Tysa and Gregor's other wives, they… they died because of me?"

He gave her a shake. "Don't be a fool! Gregor killed them, not you!"

"If I had gone to marry him when I was supposed to-"

"Then you would have been killed just like the rest of them. You were smart. You survived!" he insisted. Sandor's grip turned into a hug and she was pulled into his embrace. Myrna pushed the side of her face against his chest only to have more tears stream down. A craving came over her. Myrna wanted a comfort she had never had before. With her hands she placed them on his stomach and began to push him back towards the bed. He nearly stumbled, and his rear ended up falling onto the edge of the bed. They were now face leveled, and Myrna tangled her arms around his neck. "What do you think you're doing?" he rasped.

"I want this," she faintly replied.

He laughed. "With me? Did you fall and hit that pretty head somewhere?"

Almost roughly she pulled him in and kissed him. He let her with no resistance. Myrna felt his large hands touch her waist and run down towards her hips. Their kiss was a long one, and when they pulled apart they only went in for another. She climbed on top of him, making him fall back onto the bed. Their kisses turned wet, and they began exploring more of each other's bodies through their clothing. Before they went any further Myrna knew she had to say something.

"Remember a long time ago you were wondering if I was a maiden or not?" she spoke between heavy breaths.

His labored breathing slowed and he paused his hands from moving. "Are you really…?" he asked in a very low, deep tone. When Myrna nodded his expression softened.

"Don't stop. I want you to be my first… and last," she kissed him hard and he continued to travel her body with his hands, more eager than before. He undid the laces on the back of her dress, and they stopped kissing for a moment so the dress could come off and they threw it next to them. The only smallclothes she wore under the dress was her loincloth, so Sandor laid his eyes on her breasts for the first time. Almost hungrily he held her tight as he kissed her chest, trying to avoid her ruby pendant that would slide around on her smooth chest. Myrna continued to breath heavy, running her fingers through his brown hair.

Unexpectedly he brushed his hands over her lower back, his fingers tenderly rubbing over the ridges her skin had deformed into. Myrna expected some sort of repulsive response from him, but there was none. As he continued to kiss her chest and make his way to her rose colored nipples he continued to stroke the scarred mess on her back. What he was doing to her awakened a strong yearning between her legs. Myrna tucked her chin down to watch him and planted a kiss over where his right eyebrow should've been. He was already sweating and the pockets of burned flesh were moist but she did not mind. He stopped to look into her eyes,

"That's nice," she sighed.

He cackled. "We're only beginning," the right side of his face tightened from the way he grinned, wider than she had ever seen. He slipped a hand down her loincloth and she shuddered. A finger felt her up, but he continued to stare her hard in the eyes. "Hmm… you're not ready yet. You really are a maiden," he found a way to tease her in a moment like this. Not giving her a chance to frown, he gave her another hard kiss and pushed her down so she laid on top of her dress and furs. He then went down to remove her loincloth and she raised her hips in the air to assist.

Not too sure what he planned on doing, she asked. "What now?"

All he did was give her a smirk, and his head went down to give her a brand new kiss. Jolts of pleasure raced through her body, down her legs which made them shake and up into her chest. Her throat tightened, and moaning eased the tension. Hearing her small noises only encouraged Sandor to do more. Myrna felt herself sinking into the furs beneath her. The feeling only grew more intense, and her moans grew a little louder. Eventually her moans turned into her saying his name.

When he returned to her face they kissed and she could taste how she tasted down there. "I've always wanted to do that to a woman," he hoarsely whispered.

"That was your first time doing that?" she asked, even more out of breath than before and she could feel how hot her face had become. "But that was incredible…"

"There's no way in the seven buggering hells I would ever put my lips against a whore's cunt," he retorted. "Anyway… I think you're ready. This is your last chance to say no."

Myrna chuckled and smiled as she shook her head. "You've done well so far…"

With that, Sandor sat up on his knees to remove his tunic, and then took a second to get off the bed so he could remove his trousers and his loincloth. Myrna laid there on top of the warm, fuzzy furs and watched him intently. She looked at every scar she noticed on his body, how the sunlight bounced off him when he moved. When his clothes were scattered along the wooden floor he crawled back on the bed and towered over her. Back at the pond she had seen him nude, but not like this. Nowhere like this.

"Relax," he tried sounding comforting with his naturally bitter tone. They adjusted so his legs were between hers. He lowered his hips but his massive arms continued to prop him up above her. Myrna was nervous, but not as nervous as she thought she would have been. "Guide me," he commanded. "And tell me to stop if it is too much."

When she held him he lowered himself more, and began pushing when he touched the outside of her. He started off very slow, and Myrna now knew why he was so cautious. When she tensed up he immediately stopped but she insisted he kept going. As quick as the pain appeared, it subsided even quicker. When she was more satisfied than nervous Sandor began making his own moans. Myrna explored his wide chest with her hands, tracing over old scars as she grew more passionate along with him. _So this is what it feels like_, she smiled for herself.

The heat between them intensified, and Myrna spread her legs wider for Sandor. "Faster…" she gasped, turning her head to the side.

"Oh, that's… bloody sweet to hear…" he spoke and let out a longer moan as he listened to her request.

Not too long after that they both had hit their climax. Now they lied together on the small bed on their backs. Neither of them minded that they were forced to be close now. Myrna was nudged between his torso and arm, the scent of sweat filled her nostrils. She was on her side, with one leg over him and an arm resting on his chest. He'd occasionally run the tips of his fingers over her back. They didn't speak. Myrna wanted to let what just happened sink in a little. Now she was no longer an old maid. Something she had been ashamed of for the past few years was now gone.

After much resting Myrna sat up. "I don't feel any different…" she noted.

"Did you expect to feel different?" he asked, still lying down.

"I think I did," she went to grab her dress. When she held it up she gasped. "Oh… how did this happen!?"

Now Sandor sat up as well to see what she was talking about. There was a big, red bloodstain right in the middle of the waist area. "Well, fuck. That will be hard to get out…" he replied.

Myrna took a minute to think. Then she bundled it up in a ball and crawled out of bed still in the nude. Sandor watched contentedly but was curious as to what she was doing. The balled up dress ended up going underneath the bed, and Myrna pulled out her old clothes. The raggy red tunic and brown trousers were still there along with her dagger. "I was never much of a dress person anyway…" she tried smoothing out the wrinkles in the tunic.

"_I_ liked the way you looked in a dress," Sandor sounded disappointed.

That made her smile. "Thank you… But look. It's only a little after mid-day and we have not eaten yet."

"That fish pie better not make you cry again," he finally crawled off the bed and began picking up pieces of his clothing to dress himself.

Myrna laughed. "If it does, I have you to make me feel better again."


End file.
